OTflV.  W  fJAI.lF.  f.miMWV   TOQ  AvrFf 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN 
NORWAY 


BY 

N.    TJLRNAGLL 


Columbus,    Ohio 

Lutheran   Book   Concern 

1917 


To  TSarbm,  Kari  and  £Marit 

who  gave  me  welcome,  and 

whose  kindnesses 

so  vividly  reminded  me  of 

the  ways  of  the  dearest 

of  departed  beings, 

{Mother 

upon  whose  early  footsteps 
I  came,  and  lingered. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE 

In  the   Heart  of   Norway 7 

CHAPTER  II. 
Roadside    Rambles    1G 

CHAPTER  III. 
Thrilling  Experiences   in   the  Mountains 30 

CHAPTER  IV. 
An   Excursion  with  the  Dane  and  his  Daughter 47 

CHAPTER  V. 
I  Push  on  with  a  Guide 53 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Fun    and    Frolic    at    Spiterstulen 60 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Hairbreadth    Escapes     66 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Mountain  Sport  and  a  Great  Climb 74 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Astray    iu    the    Mountains 84 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Road  with  an  Abrupt  Ending 96 

CHAPTER  XL 
Onward    to    Krosboden..  106 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIII.  PAGE 

At   Fortun   and   Beyond.     Lyster    Fjord. 118 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Narof  jord  133 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Ose    Glacier    147 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Ulvik    159 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Wonders  of  the  Waterfalls 170 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
At    Botten    and    Elsewhere 183 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
By  Steamer  to  Haugesund 199 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Sveen     208 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Moster  Island  and   Mount  Siggen 228 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
In   Sondhorland    234 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Olen.     Etne.     Fjellberg ,....     249 


Nearing  Norway. 

CHAPTER  I 
In  the  heart  of  Norway 

mY  first  question  after  arriving  at  Fagernes,  Val- 
dres,  the  terminal  of  a  funny  little  railway  over 
which  two  trains  come  purring  daily  across 
the  mountains  from  Christiania,  was  asked  of  the 
proprietress  of  Fagerlund  hotel  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  the  ancestral  place  I  was  seeking.  "Follinglo?  Why, 
that  is  only  half  an  hour's  walk  up  the  road  from  here." 
When  she  suggested  that  it  was  rather  too  late  that  day 
to  make  the  visit,  I  failed  to  appreciate  the  advice.  How 
preposterous  to  imagine  that  one  could  delay  such  a 
quest  for  as  much  as  one  second ! 

I  flung  my  satchels  to  the  attendant  and  started  out 
eagerly  on  foot,  brimful  of  expectations.  I  scanned 
every  nook  and  cliff  and  boulder,  as  I  pressed  on,  hail- 
ing them  as  friends,  knowing  full  well  that  grandfather 
had  often  lingered  among  them,  a  joyous  youth,  in  the 
long,  long  ago.  When  I  came  to  the  venerable  looking 
Strand  church,  I  decided  that  he  had  been  baptized  there. 
Here  I  collided  with  a  picturesque  figure  in  the  person 
of  the  native-born  schoolmaster,  Mr.  John  Strand,  who 
wore  old  fashioned  knee-breeches  and  trim  vest,  and 

(7) 


8  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

who  told  me  to  look  where  he  pointed,  which  I  did  — 
and  beheld  Follinglo  nestling  ever  so  snugly  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fjord. 

Precipitous  hills,  picturesquely  clad  with  spruce  and 
fir,  overhung  the  narrow  stretch  of  soil  grudgingly  spared 
between  sea  and  mountain  for  the  tiny  Follinglo  fields. 
Though  reminiscent  of  straitened  lives  and  circumstances, 
the  scene  gave  inspiration,  possessing  as  it  did,  many 
attributes  of  peculiar  loveliness  and  charm. 

Though  there  is  no  gaudiness  whatever  about  the 
little  farm,  the  inviting  surroundings  make  up  for  it  in 
varied  attractiveness.  The  lovely,  narrow  fjord  with  its 
mirror-like  surface  and  miles  of  picturesque  length,  to- 
gether with  the  towering  peaks  of  the  snow  clad  Jotun- 
heim  mountains  seen  in  the  distance,  forms  a  view  fairly 
unsurpassed  in  grandeur.  The  sorry  looking  house  and 
barn-yard  add  no  prestige. 

No  wonder  grandfather  felt  rather  hemmed  in,  for, 
being  a  strong,  active  youth,  the  work  did  not  suit;  also, 
having  attained  to  a  goodly  height,  he  could  scarcely 
stand  upright  in  the  little  house ;  and  every  time  he 
passed  in  and  out  he  was  obliged  to  bend  low,  as  the 
doors  were  barely  five  feet  high.  There  was  ancient 
moss  between  the  logs,  placed  there,  nobody  knows  how 
many  decades  ago,  to  keep  the  wind  out.  The  huge  old 
fireplace  served  to  introduce  air  and  dissipate  the  heat. 
No  wonder  it  was  so  difficult  for  the  germs  of  consump- 
tion to  thrive  midst  such  uncongenial  surroundings,  in 
those  airy,  jolly  log  huts  of  old.  Because  of  the  many 
illy  ventilated  houses  nowadays,  here  and  elsewhere,  this 
particular  germ  has  developed  into  quite  a  pet,  reward- 
ing his  caretakers  with  lingering  tortures  and  almost 
certain  death. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  9 

The  house  had  birch  bark  on  its  roof  for  shingles, 
with  turf  laid  thereon  to  hold  them  down.  The  grass 
grows  as  green  as  you  please  up  there ;  and  also  little 
trees  that  can  find  a  footing  nowhere  else.  The  rascally 
goats  sometimes  hop  upon  the  roof,  peer  into  the  chimney 
or  perch  thereon,  scratching  and  tearing  about  generally, 
to  the  best  of  their  ability.  To  hinder  such  pranks,  old 
boards  or  planks  are  often  placed  over  the  sod  as  a 
protection. 

From  the  door  of  the  hut  I  had  a  glorious  view  of 
the  white  robed  peaks  in  the  distant  Jotunheim.  I  felt 
their  beckoning  call,  as  had  grandfather,  when  they  drew 
him  on,  opening  up  endless  vistas  of  beauty  and  grandeur 
before  his  entranced  vision.  I  determined  to  follow  in 
his  footsteps.  The  friends  of  his  youth  were  no  more, 
the  old  hut  being  the  only  survivor,  and  I  had  no  cause 
to  linger. 

With  eyes  and  mind  fixed  upon  the  Jotunheim,  it 
was  not  without  something  of  an  effort,  that  I  forced 
myself  to  deviate  from  the  road  and  clamber  up  a  fright- 
fully difficult  mountain  path  to  pay  a  visit  to  an  ancient 
lady  who  lived  hidden  away  up  there,  all  by  herself,  not 
far  from  the  clouds;  and  who,  I  had  been  told,  might 
have  a  store  of  interesting  recollections  of  bygone  days. 
It  was  an  arduous  climb,  and  the  region  was  so  lonely 
that  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  I  might  be  waylaid  by 
vagabonds.  But  a  moment  later  I  burst  out  laughing  at 
the  idea  that  a  tramp,  in  full  possession  of  his  faculties 
and  freedom,  should  take  the  trouble  to  climb  so  rugged 
a  mountainside  as  this. 

Wandering  on,  I  finally  made  out  something  which 
I  decided  was  either  a  hut,  another  queer-looking  pile  of 
stones,  or  a  grotesquely  shaped  boulder.  Whatever  it 


IO 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


Draiving  by  E.  Biorn. 


Follinglo. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  II 

was,  it  struck  me  as  being  a  freak  arrangement  anyhow, 
marring  the  face  of  nature.  When  I  finally  reached  it, 
I  knocked  at  the  likeliest  place  on  the  dilapidated  wall, 
having  the  semblance  of  a  door,  and  awaited  results 
with  some  trepidation.  I  heartily  wished  I  had  never 
been  allowed  to  read  about  hags  and  ogres.  My  knock 
had  a  disturbing  effect,  for  soon  something  stirred.  Now 
it  was  coming!  It  clamped  heavily  along  on  the  floor 
and  I  thus  made  out  that  the  occupant,  of  whatever  form 
or  features,  walked  in  wooden  shoes.  This  reassured  me. 
Ten  times  rather  that  than  a  padded,  stealthy  tread.  The 
latch  clicked — my  heart  stood  still — the  door  creaked 
ajar,  and  before  me  stood,  peering  out,  a  grayhaired  old 
woman  of  a  very  masculine  front,  but  with  a  reassuring 
beam  in  her  bright,  alert  eyes. 

After  the  usual  greetings,  she  invited  me  in,  saying: 
"Be  welcome.  I  am  here  alone,  but  the  Lord  bides  with 
me."  She  grew  immediately  curious,  and  asked  if  I 
might  perhaps  b.e  the  "Lensmand"  (sheriff),  or  some 
such  official.  I  quickly  assured  her  that  I  did  not  have 
that  honor,  being  merely  a  plain  American  citizen, 
searching  high  and  low  for  beauty  spots,  interesting  peo- 
ple, relatives,  and  such  like ;  adding  also  that  I  was  the 
son  of  a  certain  Martha  Karine,  daughter  of  an  emi- 
grated son  of  this  section,  Nils  Anderson  Follinglo. 
She  gazed  long  and  intently  at  me',  finally  exclaiming: 
"You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  our  Nils  Anderson  went 
to  America,  had  a  daughter  and  a  grandson,  and  that 
you  are  he,  and  have  come  all  the  way  from  America 
to  tell  me  so !"  I  could  not  deny  it.  "Yes,"  she  con- 
tinued, "I  knew  Nils  very  well.  There  is  no  relationship, 
but  we  were  brought  up  together  as  children,  my  mother 
being  his  step-mother." 


12  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NOR  WAV 

The  dead  had  come  back  to  life.  I  had  buried  my 
grandfather's  friends  all  too  soon.  She  was  eighty  years 
old  and  as  chipper  as  possible,  there  being  about  her,  as 
yet,  not  the  faintest  suggestion  of  being  dead.  She  was 
concerned  about  my  comfort  after  the  tiresome,  difficult 
climb,  and  immediately  began  bustling  about  to  prepare 
me  a  cup  of  warm  coffee  and  other  good  things.  Every 
now  and  then  she  would  pause  to  contemplate  the 
strange,  new  figure  before  her  and  say,  as  if  to  herself : 
"How  wonderful !  To  think  a  grandchild  of  Nils,  with 
whom  I  used  to  play,  oh,  so  long  ago !  should  come  to 
visit  me.  What  does  it  all  mean?  The  good  Lord 
knows." 

She  invited  me  to  the  table  with  the  utmost  hearti- 
ness of  manner,  as  if  she  would  willingly  have  placed 
before  me  all  that  she  possessed.  She  had  fetched  some 
coarse  black  bread  and  a  piece  of  cheese  from  a  horrible 
looking  hole  under  the  house ;  and  I  am  sure  I  do  not 
know  how  clean  it  was,  but  I  would  have  eaten  it  if  it 
had  been  old  leather.  Who  would  willingly  hurt  her 
kind  old  heart?  She  gave  a  finishing  touch  to  my  cup, 
inside  and  out,  wiping  it  with  her  old,  gnarled  fingers,  so 
as  to  be  sure  that  it  would  be  nice  and  clean.  She 
stooped  with  much  labor  to  wash  the  dishes  in  an  old 
iron  pot,  containing  cold  water,  placed  conveniently  on 
the  floor.  The  wiping  cloth  was  not  dirty,  but  of  an 
indescribable  pattern.  The  coffee  was  as  black  as  night, 
she  having  no  cream  to  offer  —  the  cow  was  kept  dur- 
ing summer  at  a  distant  "saeter"  (mountain  summer 
pasture) — and  strong  as  such  a  brew  could  possibly 
be  concocted.  Although  knowing  it  to  be  as  poison,  I 
tasted  of  it  as  if  sipping  nectar.  She  insisted  on  pouring 
me  another  cup  and  still  another,  but  I  managed  to  as- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  13 

sume  the  defensive,  being  used  to  it,  having  been  fairly 
deluged  with  coffee  by  well-meaning  Norwegians  the 
whole  summer. 

After  our  repast,  she  asked  me  to  lean  back  in  my 
chair  and  make  myself  comfortable.  Meantime  she 
lighted  her  pipe  and,  between  long-drawn,  valiant  puffs, 
told  her  story.  To  me  it  was  a  tale  of  great  interest  — 
interesting  as  a  romance,  but  too  lengthy  to  be  re-told. 
Can  I  ever  forget  her  as  she  sat  there  with  her  venerable, 
kindly  face  beaming  upon  me,  the  smoke  from  her  pipe 
forming  a  halo  about  her  head  and,  thanks  to  the  draft 
from  the  open  "peis"  (fireplace)  behind  her,  never  be- 
coming quite  so  thick  that  I  couldn't  see  her?  She 
thought  it  remarkable  that  I  understood  her  speech,  and 
could  hardly  grasp  the  fact  that  I  was  really  foreign 
born,  and  yet  able  to  speak  her  language. 

She  told  me  she  had  had  a  hard  up  hill  pull  all  her 
life,  yet  she  knew  of  people  who  had  fared  worse.  She 
had  never  been  else  than  a  poor,  hard-working  tenant, 
and  for  the  last  twenty  years  the  invalidism  of  her  hus- 
band had  added  weight  to  her  burden ;  but,  thanks  be 
to  God,  who  had  given  her  a  strong  back,  she  had  been 
able  to  hustle,  dig  and  scrape,  with  sufficient  energy  to 
support  them  both.  The  greatest  sorrow  she  had  known 
was  when  they  carried  him  away  to  the  church-yard, 
leaving  her  utterly  alone,  with  only  herself  to  provide  for. 
Her  constant  outdoor  life  had  made  her  well  propor- 
tioned, muscular  and  strong.  In  spite  of  isolation  and 
little  schooling  she  was  remarkably  well  posted  on  state 
and  community  affairs.  Her  thorough  acquaintance 
with  the  Bible  gave  to  her  discourse  a  charm  and  depth 
the  equal  of  which  one  might  seek  far  to  find. 

She   exhibited,   with   childish  delight,   letters   from 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


her  little  American  granddaughters.  She  found  a  vast 
deal  of  pleasure  in  looking  over  these  missives,  though 
she  could  not  read  them.  The  childish  scrawl  appeared 
to  her  an  exhibition  of  unusual  talent;  each  crude  twist 
and  turn,  blot  or  dot,  bearing  evidence  of  remarkable 
intelligence  and  skill.  During  my  reading  of  them  she 
poured  forth  a  running  accompaniment  of  audible  com- 
ments, her  face  ex- 
p  r  e  s  s  i  v  e  of  much 
wonder  at  my  pro- 
ficiency in  voicing  in 
living,  spoken  lan- 
guage, those  beloved, 
uncertain,  ink  tracings. 
When  she  was  to 
have  her  picture  taken, 
she  made  a  partial 
change  of  her  habili- 
ments right  before  me, 
having  so  much  to 
talk  about  that  she 
could  not  spare  the 
time  to  go  into  another 
room  to  do  it. 

Just   before   my   de- 
parture, she  asked  me 

to  read  a  chapter  to  her  from  the  Bible.  She  reverently 
laid  away  the  old  pipe  beside  her  spectacles,  folded  her 
hands,  and  listened  with  close  attention.  The  tobacco 
smoke  lingered  lovingly  about  her  rapt  features  while 
I  read,  and  though  it  looked  odd,  it  struck  me  as  being 
no  more  out  of  place  than  when  preachers  or  others  en- 
velop themselves  in  similar  clouds,  enjoyed  virtuously 


Drawing   by  E.   Biorn 
Marit. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  15 

and  contentedly,  promptly  at  the  close  of  services.  She 
had  her  smoke  just  before  the  exercises,  they  immedi- 
ately after. 

My  advent  had  awakened  many  memories,  and  she 
declared  that  her  mind  acted  as  if  she  were  in  a  trance. 
She  averred,  again  and  again,  that  it  was  the  most  un- 
heard-of thing  that  a  grandson  of  Nils  should  come  to 
seek  her  out  this  way,  after  all  these  years.  Her  feel- 
ings being  thus  aroused,  the  parting  was  cruel.  I  heard 
afterward  that  the  lonely  old  soul  had  not  slept  a  wink 
the  night  following. 

As  I  descended  to  the  road  on  my  way  to  the  hills, 
I  turned  about  and  saw  the  most  beautiful  rainbow 
imaginable  hovering  over  old  Marit's  hut.  In  another 
moment  the  afternoon  sun  came  peeping  out,  flinging 
its  sparkling  rays  against  her  window,  and  though  I 
could  not  make  out  the  hut,  the  panes  gleamed  forth 
as  living  balls  of  fire,  sending  shafts  of  gold  penetrating 
far  into  the  valley  and  all  about.  Thus  did  Marit's 
mountain  home  pass  from  my  sight. 


CHAPTER  II 
Roadside  Rambles 

CHE  next  morning  found  me  climbing  the  lesser 
heights  of  Aurdal,  for  I  was  determined,  while 
passing  this  way,  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  moun- 
tain hotel  at  Fosheim  "saeter,"  and  the  surrounding 
scenery  as  well.  It  has  become  all  the  rage  for  the  city- 
dwellers  to  flee  to  these  saeter  hotels  during  high  sum- 
mer, to  bask  in  jolly  friendships,  "r0mmekolle,"  and  the 
bracing  mountain  air.  The  pretty  little  saeter  cows 
turned  loose  above  the  clouds,  in  valleys  between  the 
snow-drifts,  find  a  sufficient  supply  of  the  rare,  succu- 
lent grasses  to  satisfy  their  wants  and  fill  their  milk-bags, 
these  in  turn  being  greedily  drained  by  the  mountain 
idlers.  To  say  one  is  hungry  up  here  is  but  a  meaning- 
less phrase,  but  to  say  that  one  feels  very  much  like  a 
famished  Russian  wolf  better  describes  the  situation ; 
this  being  the  normal  or  if  you  will,  the  abnormal  state 
of  the  appetite.  The  potatoes  were  as  snow-flakes,  and 
the  vension  quite  too  tempting.  "R0mmekolle"  is  pure 
angel's  food,  being  curdled  milk  with  raised  cream,  pow- 
dered on  top  with  ground  toast  and  sugar. 

I  was  in  great  luck,  for  I  unearthed  a  distant  rela- 
tive in  the  person  of  the  manager  of  the  hotel,  and  at 
dinner  I  was  given  gratis  the  seat  of  honor  among  one 
hundred  and  fifty  guests.  I  felt  truly  distinguished.  A 
famous  kappelmeister  from  Copenhagen  and  an  aris- 
tocratic-looking professor  from  the  University  of  Chris- 
tiania  were  placed  one  on  either  side  of  me,  and,  al- 

(16) 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  17 

though  desperately  hungry,  I  felt  it  due  them  to  try 
to  appear  in  such  splendid  presence  as  though  this  little 
matter  of  eating  was  quite  immaterial.  I  am  afraid 
some  of  our  near  neighbors  suffered  a  similar  constraint  ; 
but  the  professor  meanwhile  remained  blissfully  oblivious 
of  the  effect  of  his  imposing  presence,  seeing  little  and 
caring  not  a  straw  what  the  others  did.  It  was  a  matter 
of  speculation,  how  that  hungry  crowd  would  have  acted 
if  the  unwritten  law  had  not  held  us  tied.  Oh,  for  a 
chance  to  lift  that  soup  bowl  bodily  and  to  enjoy  one 
moment  of  entire  freedom !  But  nothing  of  the  sort 
happened,  for,  strangely  enough,  the  laws  of  conven- 
tionality, which  we  may  break  if  we  will,  hold  firmer 
than  those  of  the  state. 

After  dinner  we  were  tumbled  unceremoniously  out 
upon  the  spacious  veranda  for  coffee.  As  I  sat  sipping 
the  gossip-inspiring  beverage,  I  gazed  with  much  ad- 
miration on  the  scene  far  below.  The  beautiful  Strand 
fjord  lay  sunning,  glossy  and  placid  in  its  chosen  haunts, 
with  not  a  ripple  upon  its  surface.  Pretty  Follinglo 
lay  peeping  out  from  its  corner  far  in  the  distance,  with 
hundreds  of  other  small  farms  lying  prettily  scattered 
about,  on  either  shore  of  the  narrow  fjord  skirting  the 
parallel  stretch  of  green-crested  hills.  Little  patches  of 
irregular  fields  gave  variety  to  the  scene,  reminding  one 
of  nothing  so  much  as  a  huge  crazy  quilt.  The  nearby 
water-falls  kept  up  their  eternal  din ;  though  pleasing 
to  the  view,  they  vex  the  ear  and  harrow  the  nerves.  It 
cannot  but  be  somewhat  of  a  trial  to  those  living  in  the 
near  neighborhood  to  endure  this  everlasting  din.  My 
eyes,  always  hitherto  fed  by  the  broad  western  prairie 
prospect,  feasted  joyously  on  the  new  food  set  before 
them  in  the  form  of  these  valleys  and  fjords,  the  saeters, 
2 


i8 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  19 

the  distant  mountain-tops  with  their  perpetual  white 
coverings  —  which,  by  the  way,  reminds  me  that  I  must 
be  getting  on,  for  I  am  to  climb  them. 

On  the  steps,  going  out,  I  was  confronted  by  a 
Norwegian  engineer  who  lives  in  Berlin  and  who,  seeing 
I  was  an  American,  volunteered  the  information  that  he 
had  just  visited  America,  but  had  found  it  dull.  "There 
is  noise  enough,  and  power  enough,  the  same,  for  in- 
stance, as  in  that  water-fall  over  there,  but  I  missed 
life.  Your  people  are  not  living,  they  are  just  enduring. 
Our  people  live  on  much  smaller  incomes,  and  yet  get 
more  pleasure  and  satisfaction  out  of  existence  than 
yours  do."  I  asked  him  where  he  had  been  staying. 
"Pittsburg,"  said  he.  "Well,  next  time  you  call,  spend 
a  few  weeks  on  the  Mississippi,  view  the  farms  and  vil- 
lages in  the  great  middle  West,  get  into  the  very  heart  of 
America,  and  then  climb  up  here  and  tell  me  your  story." 

After  giving  my  testimony,  I  hurried  along  behind 
two  Danish  tourists  who  were  taking  a  short  cut  down 
the  mountain  side,  back  to  the  main  road.  There  is 
nothing  more  joyously  thrilling  than  this  exploring  of 
new  regions  if  there  is  only  some  one  at  hand  to  bear 
the  blame  in  case  of  trouble.  My  fair  guides  were 
genuine  talkers  and  no  mistake.  What  a  peculiar  utter- 
ance !  Their  jerky  enunciation  of  their  provincial  dialect 
soundly  oddly  to  one  not  accustomed  to  their  speech. 
The  Danes  love  to  visit  Norway,  as  do  also  the  Ger- 
mans, many  coming  even  in  winter.  English  tourists 
are  met  with  in  great  numbers,  and  Americans  are  fre- 
quently seen. 

The  next  morning  found  me  on  the  main  avenue, 
bound  for  the  snow-capped  mountains.  I  determined 
that  nothing  should  turn  me  from  the  road  again;  that 


2O  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

I  would  follow  as  direct  a  course  as  possible  up  the 
crooked  valley  to  the  very  highest  point.  I  found  myself 
walking  in  the  company  of  some  boys  and  girls  hailing 
from  different  points,  viz.,  Christiania  and  Bergen.  They 
were  pupils  and  teachers  out  for  recreation,  and  a  jolly 
lot  they  proved  to  be.  We  had  a  glorious  tramp  that  day. 

The  smooth,  even  roads  of  Norway  make  it  a 
pedestrian's  paradise.  The  splendid  highways,  running 
through  lovely  scenery,  attract  numerous  pleasure-seek- 
ers of  various  kinds,  of  whom  a  great  many  are  depend- 
ent on  their  own  legs  for  locomotion.  It  may  be  in- 
credible that  an  American,  unused  to  much  walking, 
should  have  covered  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 
rugged  mountain  roads  and  by-paths  in  one  season ;  but 
such  is  the  fact. 

We  turned  around  at  least  five  hundred  times  that 
day,  walking  semi-circularly  along  the  road.  The  pano- 
rama was  constantly  shifting,  both  before  and  behind. 
Thus,  certain  scenes,  with  a  seemingly  set  expression, 
would  assume  an  entirely  different  aspect  when  we 
reached  them,  or  viewed  them  from  an  opposite  direction. 
Sometimes  the  road  hung  precariously  on  stony  ledges 
looking  straight  down  several  hundred  feet ;  at  other 
times  it  went  in  serpentine  windings,  without  any  seem- 
ing aim  or  direction,  but  we  did  not  care;  we  just  kept 
strolling  on,  following  it.  There  are  over  20,000  miles 
of  these  floor-like,  happy-go-lucky  roads  in  Norway, 
and  their  total  cost  I  was  told  amounts  to  scarcely 
$23,000,000. 

We  talked  to  all  the  people  we  met,  and  they  had 
no  objection,  for  time  is  not  money  here.  The  moment 
they  set  eyes  on  the  American,  there  always  ensued  a 
dead  stop,  for  I  must  needs  tell  my  story,  and  answer 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  21 

eager  questions  about  relatives  and  friends  in  all  corners 
of  forty-eight  states. 

We  enjoyed  viewing  the  mowers,  as  they  attacked 
the  timothy  and  clover  fields  with  their  scythes,  bend- 
ing their  bodies  at  a  very  correct  angle  each  time  they 
took  a  stroke.  They  picked  up  the  hay  with  their  hands, 
and  hung  it  upon  rails  or  strings,  one  above  another, 
to  dry.  In  the  harvest  field  (oats  and  barley)  the  whole 
family  helped,  from  the  aged  grandmother  down  to  the 
future  grandfather,  now  a  mere  toddler  who  got  in  the 
way  and  made  himself  a  nuisance,  but  appeared  fully  as 
much  ocupied  as  any  of  them.  We  saw  many  young 
girls  in  the  grainfields,  bending  low,  scythe  in  hand,  to 
cut  the  grain.  From  their  stooping  postures  they  looked 
at  us  sidewise  as  we  passed.  It  was  decided  that  it  was 
hard  to  withstand  anything  like  that,  especially  when 
it  had  royal  red  cheeks,  curling  lips,  blue  eyes,  and  golden 
hair.  They  looked  robust  and  well  fed,  and  not  at  all 
overworked. 

In  spite  of  their  slow-moving  propensities  the  people 
here  have  neatly  kept  farms  and  homes,  and  though 
their  progress  is  tortoise-like,  they  get  there  at  last, 
unworried  and,  generally,  in  sound  condition.  What  we 
do  not  do  to-day  we  prefer  to  do  to-morrow,  is  the  sum 
total  of  the  impressions  I  received  of  the  tone  and  tenor 
of  their  work-day  habits.  People  actually  live  the  sim- 
ple life  over  here;  and  although  they  spend  a  good  deal 
of  time  in  eating,  say  four  or  five  times  a  day,  with  occa- 
sional coffee-drinking  between,  slipping  in  a  nap  or  two 
on  top,  they  do  it  utterly  without  flourishes.  This  enables 
the  housewife  to  make  her  escape  out  into  God's  air  and 
sunshine  and  also  to  help  with  the  outside  work.  The 
women  are  seen  everywhere,  even  at  the  polls. 


22  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

We  lingered  along  the  roadside,  admiring  the  flow- 
ers, of  which  there  is  an  endless  variety,  all  so  beautiful 
that  we  could  make  no  choice,  and  hence  plucked  none, 
from  sheer  indecision.  Anyway,  a  flower  loses  "too  much 
of  its  charm  and  meaning  to  be  thus  ruthlessly  torn 
from  its  setting.  I  like  to  admire  the  peculiarities  of 
each  separate  kind  as  it  appears,  unblemished,  in  its  own 


Drawing    by    E.    Biorn. 

Norwegian  Homestead  with  "Stabur." 

domain ;  it  being  impossible  to  fall  rightly  in  love  with 
a  lot  of  pretty  faces,  kidnapped  in  a  bunch,  and  dying 
ones  at  that.  There  are  almost  as  many  flowers  as  there 
are  blades  of  grass,  and  it  is  no  wonder  the  tiny  Jersey- 
like  cows  that  eat  both,  making  no  discrimination,  are 
such  esthetic-looking  creatures.  Sometimes  we  would 
forget  to  go  on,  tarrying  in  the  woods,  studying  the  trees 
by  the  wayside.  The  spruce  is  the  loveliest,  I  think,  and 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  23 

also  the  most  valuable,  for  it  provides  fuel  and  lumber 
worth  millions.  So  also  does  the  Scotch  fir.  They  grow 
amicably  side  by  side,  but  sometimes  they  part  company, 
the  spruce  going  east,  and  the  Scotch  fir  wandering  to- 
wards the  rather  treeless  west  coast,  where  it  is  found 
in  groves,  and  also  scatteringly  in  uninviting  places, 
where  the  spruce  never  has  the  temerity  to  follow.  We 
saw  the  jolly  fir,  breezily  waving  its  arms  in  the  wind, 
tiptoeing  on  impossible  ledges  that  appeared  to  be  quite 
bare  of  soil.  The  birch  loves  to  have  as  its  companions, 
the  spruce  and  fir,  and  snuggles  in  between,  wherever 
there  is  a  chance.  Sometimes  we  could  see  it  sallying 
bravely  forth,  forming  groves  of  its  own;  also,  I  was 
greatly  surprised  to  meet  with  it  far  up  the  mountain 
sides,  ever  so  much  higher  than  either  of  its  companions 
dared  venture.  It  had  grown  old  and  dwarfed  from  the 
fierce  exposure  and  strenuous  climb. 

We  were  careful  not  to  disturb  the  birds,  for  it  was 
still  nesting  time  with  some  of  them,  or  at  least,  school 
time  for  their  homely  offspring.  There  was  evidently 
much  tutoring  going  on,  since  we  could  hear  snatches 
of  song  and  subdued  warblings  whenever  we  had  a  mind 
to  listen.  The  school  of  flying  being  in  session,  we  were 
given  an  opportunity  to  witness  many  an  amazing  flight, 
ill-starred,  and  otherwise.  We  had  chanced  upon  the 
midst  of  a  birds'  paradise.  The  various  families  fore- 
gather in  the  early  summer,  obeying  their  instinct,  and 
then  there  is  glorious  music  in  the  northland.  The  sun 
rides  so  high  in  the  heavens  that  it  scarcely  sets  during 
mid-summer,  and  the  birds  just  can't  go  to  sleep  when 
bed-time  comes,  but  rollick  around  and  sing  as  if  their 
tiny  bodies  would  burst  from  joyous  exertion.  Even 


24  WALKING   TRIP?    IN    NORWAY 

human  beings  catch  the  contagion,  and  join  in  the  chorus, 
inspired  thereto  by  those  glorious  Norwegian  nights. 

We  brushed  elbows  with  a  hog  while  pursuing  the 
even  tenor  of  our  way,  no  one  being  surprised,  he  the 
least  of  all.  He  grunts  with  joyous  satisfaction  at  the 
general  state  of  things,  the  livelong  day,  and  well  he  may, 
for  he  is  the  most  pampered  creature  in  the  country. 
We  saw  few  homes  where  they  kept  more  than  one, 
there  being  but  one  pig  for  every  eight  persons,  they 
say.  He  gets  all  the  left-over -morsels  —  the  dog  just 
hates  him  —  and  is  stroked  and  squeezed  by  everybody. 
No  wonder  he  thrives  and  is  so  utterly  good-natured. 
In  return  he  yields  up  his  flesh  —  made  from  barley,  oats 
and  the  afore-mentioned  morsels  —  with  merely  an  ex- 
postulating squeal,  and  the  table  is  forthwith  provided 
with  meat  that  is  as  tender  and  fine-tasting  as  chicken. 

For  every  two  persons  we  met  we  might  figure  on 
meeting  about  one  hen,  scarcely  any  more,  this  being 
the  usual  ratio.  They  are  rather  small,  but  very  spry 
and  useful.  They  make  no  pretensions  as  to  breed, 
cheerfully  content  with  their  plebeian  ancestry.  They 
cackle,  fight,  and  scratch  up  the  garden,  like  well  brought- 
up  hens  the  world  over.  They  set  with  dogged  deter- 
mination, feeling  within  their  rights,  for  they  are  good 
egg-layers.  The  rooster,  though  rather  slim  and  dusty- 
looking,  being  of  an  off-color,  strutted  about  with  the 
usual  amount  of  arrogance  and  empty-headed  concern. 
There  is  but  one  such  fellow  to  manage  each  flock,  and, 
there  being  no  other  to  dispute  his  doings,  he  may  crow 
in  peace  without  being  choked  off  by  envious  com- 
petitors. 

Little  black,  skunk-like  dogs  barked  vehemently  at 
us  as  we  passed  the  premises  each  one  seemed  to  own. 
Some  big  cats  lay  near  the  road  in  deep  lethargy,  eyes 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  25 

apparently  closed  and  unseeing,  motionless.  Scat !  No- 
body said  a  word,  but  there  ensued  a  series  of  sudden 
hoarse  sniffs,  several  silent  black  streaks,  and  in  a  twink- 
ling the  birds  had  some  highly  undesirable  companions  in 
the  tree-tops.  They  looked  hard  and  unblinkingly  at  us 
from  above,  with  sinister,  gleaming  eyes,  beckoning  us 
on  and  away.  At  night  they  hold  concerts  that  differ 
widely  from  the  bird-choruses  of  the  daytime.  They  are 
very  large  cats,  with  corresponding  vocal  chords.  The 
feline  choruses  of  the  long  winter  nights  of  the  North- 
land are  famous. 

Troughs  of  various  degrees  of  clumsiness  or  grace- 
fulness were  placed  along  the  roadside,  here  and  there, 
to  catch  water  from  trickling  little  streams  tumbling 
down  the  mountain  side,  providing  refreshment  for  each 
passer-by,  man  or  beast.  The  horses,  when  thirsty, 
turn  towards  these  troughs  without  looking  for  permis- 
sion from  the  driver.  And  they  seem  to  do  most  of  the 
managing  otherwise  as  well,  for  they  generally  regulate 
the  speed  and  the  number  of  short  stops  judged  neces- 
sary. They  plod  slowly  up-hill,  halting  frequently,  but 
down-hill  they  make  up  for  lost  time,  not  wholly  from 
choice,  however.  They  let  themselves  fall  recklessly  for- 
ward with  a  great  to-do  of  clattering  hoofs,  so  as  to 
keep  from  under  the  swaying  vehicle  thundering  on  be- 
hind. They  swing  their  heads  in  every  direction  to  show 
their  independence.  They  do  not  enjoy  being  checked 
up.  In  fact  they  will  not  permit  it.  This  overbearing 
attitude  may  be  explained  by  the  scarcity  of  horses  —  one 
horse  to  sixteen  persons  in  Norway.  When  once  in  a 
great  while  we  happened  to  ride  behind  them  in  the  Nor- 
wegian two-wheeled  carts  commonly  in  use,  we  were 
made  to  feel  all  the  gyrations  of  the  stiff-necked  crea- 
ture's body ;  if  he  stumbled  in  a  rut,  we  became  unwil- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  27 

ling  partakers  of  all  his  motions ;  when  on  the  trot,  he 
flung  us  up  and  down  steadily  and  painstakingly. 

We  called  at  a  house  for  refreshments,  and  were 
not  turned  away.  Hospitality  is  the  rule,  money-making 
being,  apparently,  no  particular  object.  Though  the 
tourist  traffic  is  bringing  in  a  scent  of  it,  let  us  hope  that 
the  day  is  far  distant  when  this  comfortable  state  of  af- 
fairs shall  give  place  to  commercialism.  Stout  logs  had 
been  used  in  the  erection  of  this  house,  as  also  in  the 
other  houses  of  this  vicinity,  and,  indeed,  practically  ?11 
over  the  country.  Like  the  majority  of  dwellings  in  this 
section,  it  was  neither  clapboarded  nor  painted,  presenting 
a  rather  naked  aspect  to  the  world  and  the  elements.  The 
latter  had  unblushingly  laid  hand  on  its  golden-colored 
nudity,  and,  in  the  course  of  time,  tinged  the  logs  with  a 
blackish-brownish  color.  The  slate  roof  looked  very 
pretty.  The  slates  were  brought  from  the  great  slate 
quarry  in  East  Valdres.  We  entered  by  an  entrance 
door.  There  is  always  an  extra  door  or  so  to  hinder  out- 
siders from  stepping  right  into  the  bosom  of  the  family, 
the  first  thing.  The  rooms  were  placed  somewhat  at  ran- 
dom, we  thought,  but  as  tastes  and  customs  differ  greatly, 
we  will  refrain  from  discussing  either.  There  was  a 
kitchen,  living-room,  bed-rooms  and  even  the  proverb- 
ially unused  parlor.  There  were  plenty  of  chairs  and 
benches,  but  no  rocking-chairs.  The  floors  were  gay 
with  rag  carpets.  In  each  window  nodded  a  pretty  house 
plant.  The  wall  was  adorned  with  an  old  fashioned 
clock,  pictures  of  an  American  bride  or  two,  a  prettily 
ornamented  shelf  containing  copies  of  the  local  paper,  a 
few  books  of  devotion,  some  hymn-books,  and  the  Bible. 
No  horrid  yellow  journals  littered  the  tables,  or  disturbed 
the  serenity  of  the  rather  bare,  but  clean-looking  walls. 


28 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


ffi 


O 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    isORWAY  2Q 

There  was  an  air  of  wholesome  calm  about  it  all  —  no 
danger  of  stepping  on  anyone's  toes  in  a  community  like 
this.  By  the  way,  wooden  shoes  are  much  used,  being 
also  symbols  of  peace.  Whoever  heard  of  a  thief  or 
marauding  villain  prowling  about  in  wooden  shoes  ?  And 
there  are  few  if  any  such  characters  here. 

Towards  four  o'clock,  our  feet,  which  had  nobly 
carried  us  this  far,  clamored  for  consideration,  and  we 
were  glad  to  rest  from  our  sight-seeing.  The  moment 
we  set  eyes  on  the  Oylo  hotel,  we  made  for  it  by  the 
shortest  course. 

Some  one  has  said  that  rest  is  the  most  delicious  of 
bodily  enjoyments.  If  it  be  true,  let  us  suggest  that  to 
eat  well-prepared  food  comes  next.  The  home-like  hos- 
telries,  scattered  as  by  accident  all  about,  sometimes  by 
the  roadside,  sometimes  far  above  it,  amply  provide  for 
these  things. 

My  companions  went  back  by  "Kariole,"  to  their 
hotel,  having  had  enough  exercise  to  last  the  day.  Let 
it  be  here  explained  that  this  vehicle,  according  to  one 
facetious  etymologist,  takes  its  name  from  the  first  couple 
that  used  it.  Kari,  the  wife,  was  set  on  having  her  name, 
alone,  perpetuated  by  the  vehicle,  but  honest  Ole,  the 
husband,  wouldn't  agree  to  this.  The  minister,  happen- 
ing to  pass  that  way  while  the  dissension  was  in  progress, 
and  being  a  peacemaker,  was  struck  by  a  bright  idea. 
He  suggested  that  they  should  meet  half-way,  merge  into 
one,  as  it  were,  the  same  as  when  he  tied  the  nuptial 
knot,  and  call  the  conveyance  a  Kari-Ole.  Ole  liked  the 
idea  first-rate,  and  Kari,  utterly  at  a  loss  for  words  to 
continue  the  argument,  maintained  a  silence  which  was 
construed  as  consent.  So  "Kariole"  the  vehicle  has 
been  called  to  this  day. 


CHAPTER  III 
Thrilling   Experiences  in  the   Mountains 

1WAS  left  to  make  history  all  by  myself  the  next 
day,  and  trudged  on  lonesome  enough,  murmuring 
a  little  against  fate  which  had  one  day  brought  me 
into  such  hearty  companionship  with  the  jolly  Finn  and 
the  loquacious  Ulla,  only  to  tear  us  ruthlessly  and  for- 
ever apart,  the  next.  Like  the  little  boy  who  for  lack 
of  a  playmate  made  friends  with  a  post,  I  looked  about 
for  some  such  consolation  and  saw,  beckoning  to  me,  not 
only  posts  and  the  cutest  fences,  but  all  nature  in  her 
most  smiling  mood  decked  out  with  lovely  fjords,  tum- 
bling water-falls,  and  majestic  snow-clad  mountains.  I 
took  to  them  at  once,  being  completely  enthralled,  for- 
getting for  the  time  being  the  conviviality  of  yesterday, 
and  the  days  gone  before.  And  I  was  glad  that  I  could 
forget ;  otherwise  the  poor  little  brain  would  burst  from 
the  numerous  and  all  too  vivid  impressions.  One  moun- 
tain especially  attracted  me,  bearing,  as  it  did,  an  al- 
most personal  expression,  interrogating,  as  it  were,  with 
ever-varying  features,  the  Thing  creeping  along  at  its 
base.  It  challenged  one  to  guess  the  wonderful  secrets 
it  concealed.  The  old  Vikings  had  this  all  figured  out 
and  settled.  They  believed  that  in  the  interior  were  vast 
rooms  where  the  "Jotuls,"  the  great  mountain  giants, 
lived.  From  Jotul  comes  the  name  Jotunheim  (Home 
of  the  Jotuls). 

I  passed  along  Vangsmj0sen,  the  loveliest  lake  one 
can  see,  had  bread  and  cheese  at  Grindaheim  where  I 

(30) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  3! 

regretted  that  I  wasn't  an  artist  to  paint  the  magnificent 
surroundings,  and,  pressing  on,  made  haste  to  reach 
Skogstad,  the  last  stopping-place  at  the  end  of  the  val- 
ley, the  road  here  ascending  to  Framnes,  the  gateway 
proper  of  the  mountain  wilderness. 

I  was  overtaken  by  a  rain-cloud,  first  seen  mag- 
nificently forming  in  the  distance.  Upon  nearer  ap- 
proach, it  mirrored  itself  beautifully  in  the  lake,  fling- 
ing, also,  its  clearly  outlined  shadow  against  a  precipitous 
mountain  wall  across  the  fjord,  and  finally,  without 
warning,  darkening  the  heavens  about,  enfolding  me  in 
a  sudden  shower.  As  I  hurried  along  under  my  um- 
brella, I  happened  to  give  vent  to  a  loud  sneeze,  which, 
to  my  intense  surprise,  was  heard  and  enjoyed  by  a  party 
of  pedestrians,  happy  female  tourists,  who  had  taken 
refuge  under  a  projecting  rock  by  the  roadside.  A  burst 
of  merriment,  of  uncontrollable  laughter,  startled  me 
nearly  out  of  my  wits,  but  I  had  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  proceed  mechanically  on,  having  conquered 
the  habit  of  looking  furtively  behind  me  on  such  occa- 
sions. I  had  seen  this  rollicking  crowd  far  in  advance ; 
but  who  would  have  dreamed  that  they  would  happen 
to  be  eavesdropping  just  at  the  psychological  moment 
of  the  unlooked-for  explosion?  Although  it  had  no 
effect  on  the  downpour,  it  dispelled  the  gloom  —  for 
them.  Tourists,  let  loose,  are  like  children ;  they  glory 
in  tomfoolery. 

The  mountains  were  very  high,  quite  precipitous, 
and  very  wonderfully  formed  on  either  side  as  I  pro- 
ceeded along  the  valley;  and  see  them  all  I  must,  but 
to  enjoy  them  it  became  necessary  to  hold  the  head  back 
at  an  extremely  uncomfortable  angle.  It  was  very 
fatiguing  work,  being  hard  on  the  eyes  and  neck,  while 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


Drawing    by    E.    Biorn. 


A  rollicking  crowd. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  33 

the  gait  became  very  erratic  and  uncertain.  But  it 
paid.  There  were  glorious  sights  to  be  seen  up  there, 
and  down  here,  behind,  and  everywhere.  In  one  place 
there  was  a  fantastic  formation  of  the  cliffs,  which 
looked  like  a  huge  decayed  tooth  set  on  edge.  It  ap- 
peared as  though  it  might  once  have  been  a  molar  in  a 
Jotul's  mouth.  There  had  evidently  been  big  doings  in 
the  mountain  when  that  particular  member  came  out, 
much  loose  rock  lying  scattered  about.  And  what  of 
the  travail  that  preceded  it?  It  must  have  been  an 
earthquake.  In  several  places  I  could  see  where  huge 
fragments  of  rock  which  I  passed  had  formerly  lain 
imbedded  in  the  mountain  above.  In  some  places  there 
were  millions  of  fragments,  large  and  small,  strewn 
about.  I  was  continually  on  the  look-out,  in  no  little 
trepidation,  for  missiles  that  I  feared  might  possibly 
come  hurtling  down  from  above ;  but  the  rocks  all  re- 
tained their  balance  that  day.  During  protracted  wet 
spells  in  the  spring,  outlying  rocks  have  a  tendency  to 
loosen,  some  being  washed  out.  Though  such  a  thing 
has  happened,  it  is  exceedingly  seldom  anyone  is  caught 
by  these  rocky  missiles. 

To  see  the  sun  from  my  valley  seek  its  couch  early 
in  the  afternoon,  as  its  quivering  rim  took  the  final  peep 
over  the  hoary  tops  of  the  Jotunheim,  radiating  beams 
of  light  in  all  directions,  and  suggesting  the  final  dash 
of  spray  flung  from  the  fringe  of  a  passing  shower, 
formed  a  glorious  subject  for  brush  and  pencil ;  but,  alas, 
it  will  never  be  perfectly  reproduced  even  by  the  most 
skillful  artist.  As  soon  as  the  sun  had  bid  good  night, 
the  mountains  began  to  frown,  and  I  at  once  felt  rather 
shut  off  and  hemmed  in.  I  decided  then  and  there  that 
I  should  never  wish  to  live  in  a  mountain  valley.  Oh, 
3 


34  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

for  a  glimpse  of  my  prairie  home  in  the  West,  where 
the  sun  sets  in  a  haze  of  glory,  kissing  the  earth  good 
night  at  the  proper  time,  and  sending  its  departing  rays 
lovingly  back  and  with  wonderful  effect  into  magical 
cloud  formations  that  at  times  resemble  mountains, 
but  are,  if  possible,  more  beautiful. 

Skogstad  hotel  is  now  one  of  the  has-beens,  having 
been  superseded  by  hotels  nearer  the  snow  line,  whither 
the  whim  of  the  present  day  tourist  trends.  It  still  has 
some  custom,  being  situated  at  the  base  of  the  steep  in- 
cline which  leads  into  the  regions  of  perpetual  snow, 
but  its  popularity  is  rapidly  waning,  being  as  nothing 
compared  to  what  it  was  in  the  olden  days,  before  the 
time  of  automobiles  and  mountain  hostelries.  The 
course  of  the  tourist  stream  is  changeable  and  erratic. 
Where  in  places  it  flows  steadily  and  unceasingly,  it  may 
unexpectedly  take  a  spasmodic  turn  and  eventually 
dwindle  away,  choosing  a  course  in  another  direction 
and  abandoning  its  former  haunts  almost  entirely.  As 
new  fields  are  conquered,  hotels  spring  up  as  if  by 
magic,  to  meet  all  demands.  In  one  place,  where  I  ar- 
rived tired,  footsore  and  hungry,  instead  of  meeting 
with  the  usual  smiling  face  of  an  ever-attentive  maid 
at  the  door,  my  own  answering  smile  being  all  prepared, 
it  —  the  conquering  smile  —  faded  sadly  away  when, 
in  answer  to  my  knock,  what  I  thought  to  be  the  wel- 
come patter  of  pretty  feet  proved  to  be  the  scampering 
of  rats.  I  had  struck  an  abandoned  house. 

A  gradually  ascending  road,  though  level  to  the  eye, 
is  not  accepted  as  such  by  tired  legs.  After  much 
strenuous  walking  and  hard  breathing  I  arrived  at 
a  place  where  the  road  forked.  Here  I  was  in  a 
quandary,  not  being  fully  decided  whether  I  wanted  to 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  35 

take  the  west  fork,  which  led  past  File  Mountain,  the 
road  which  grandfather  took,  or,  whether  I  should  make 
a  detour,  go  northeast  through  darkest  Jotunheim,  climb 
Galdh0ppigen  Mountain  and  later,  after  having  passed 
through  Lorn  and  Sogn,  recover  grandfather's  tracks  at 
Lardals0ren.  A  voice  whispered :  You  are  not  prepared 
for  such  a  journey.  Another  said :  You  are  afraid ! 
I  was  on  my  mettle  at  once,  and  flung  back,  almost 
without  thinking:  "I  will  climb  Galdh0piggen,  just  be- 
cause I  am  afraid,  so  there !"  And  I  did,  but  not  yet. 
The  die  was  cast,  and  I  struck  out  hurriedly  to  the  right, 
once  the  decision  was  made,  so  as  to  be  quickly  rid  of 
prudent  questionings  and  uncertainties. 

After  a  little,  I  met  with  some  road  laborers,  who 
told  me  I  could  gain  much  time  by  taking  a  short  cut 
up  the  mountain  side  instead  of  following  the  windings 
of  the  main  road.  I  decided  to  take  that  path.  I  felt 
that  I  was  in  for  it  now,  anyway,  and  hence  might  as 
well  begin  with  a  mild  adventure  at  once,  thus  prepar- 
ing myself  by  degrees  for  sterner  ones  to  follow.  The 
eyes  did  not  try  to  fool  me  here,  it  being  useless,  as  the 
^  steepness  was  so  decided  that  it  rose  up  right  before  me 

so  that  I  could  touch  it  by  reaching  out  my  hands.  On 
one  of  these  perilously  precipitous  slopes  I  chanced  upon 
some  sweet-faced,  patient-looking  cows,  and  they  gazed 
mildly  and  questioningly  at  me,  as  if  to  say :  "We  are 
sorry  for  you !  We  are  looking  for  grass ;  otherwise 
we  shouldn't  be  here."  Nor  I,  had  I  known  the  territory. 
The  cows,  seeming  to  realize  this,  sadly  lowered  their 
heads  as  if  to  show  their  sympathy,  and  began  again 
their  usual  absent-minded  cropping.  When  I  finally 
regained  the  road,  all  perspiration,  eyes  starting  from 
their  sockets,  and  blood  boiling,  I  was  obliged  to  rest, 


36  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

and  speculated  the  while  on  the  foolishness  of  man  in 
general.  The  most  galling  thing  of  all  was  to  find 
myself  painfully  stiff  when  I  rose  to  continue  my  jour- 
ney. Some  lady  tourists  who  kept  to  the  road  had, 
meanwhile,  tortoise-like,  almost  caught  up  with  the  "pal- 
pitating hare,"  finally  passing  him  gaily  by,  immaculate 
as  ever. 

The  spruce,  the  fir,  and  the  birch  had  said  their 
good-byes,  each  in  its  turn,  and  I  now  found  myself  at 
a  height  where  I  had  to  console  myself  with  mere  moun- 
tain moss,  blueberries,  and  stray  mountain  flowers.  In 
sunny,  highly  favored  places,  there  grow  tufts  of  grass 
at  surprisingly  high  altitudes.  The  sheep  and  even  the 
cattle,  not  to  mention  the  ubiquitous  goat,  hunt  these 
choices  tidbits.  On  the  heights  one  may  suddenly  be 
startled  by  moving  things,  which  may  be  taken  for 
mountain  hobgoblins  or  even  worse ;  and  amidst  the 
strange  surroundings,  the  peculiar  colorings  and  pre- 
dominating greyish  tone  of  it  all,  it  takes  the  untrained 
eye  quite  a  while  to  tell  the  difference  between  rolling 
stones,  gnomes,  and  a  foraging  goat.  The  poor  eye  is 
continually  at  a  loss  in  such  odd  surroundings,  for 
neither  can  it  judge  distance  properly  nor  rightly  inter- 
pret colorings. 

Proceeding,  I  came  upon  a  great  number  of  stones, 
large  and  small,  dropped  from  nowhere,  scattered  loosely 
about  on  the  mountain  tops.  Some  lay  near  the  edges 
ready  to  fall,  yet  hesitating,  as  if  dreading  to  let  go 
on  account  of  the  fearful  drop.  While  pondering  Na- 
ture's seemingly  careless  methods  as  here  exemplified, 
my  contemplations  were  disturbed  by  some  autos  speed- 
ing quickly  by  and  disappearing  in  the  low-lying  clouds. 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  37 

Those  swift  chariots  looked  comfortable,  indeed;  but 
one  glance  at  the  perilous  mountain  road  over  which 
they  flew  decided  me  in  favor  of  my  slower  means  of 
progress. 

I  caught  up  with  the  autos  at  the  Framnes  hotel, 
placed  at  the  so-called  portal  of  Jotunheim.  It  stands 
at  the  very  edge  of  Tyinn  lake,  one  of  the  highest,  if 


Brewing    by 

E.   Biorn. 

Automobile  disappearing  in 
the  clouds. 

not  the  highest,  of  mountain  lakes  in  Norway,  of  any 
size.  It  is  almost  wholly  surrounded  by  snow  peaks. 
The  event  of  the  day  was  dinner,  as  usual.  We  eat  to 
live,  of  course,  but  up  here  everybody  reverses  the  old 
adage  and  eats  with  a  frank  enjoyment  in  the  act.  We 
had  venison,  fish,  potatoes  and  gravy,  and  rice  pudding 
with  blueberries  and  cream.  There  was  but  very  little 
bread  on  the  table,  as  Norwegians  only  nibble  a  morsel 
of  it  at  dinner.  The  guests  mingled  freely  like  old  ac- 
quaintances, forgetting  all  about  introductions  and  such 


38  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

ceremonies,  having  discarded  all  but  the  most  pressing 
of  forms  and  conventions  when  they  passed  the  cloud 
line. 

After  the  afternoon  coffee,  the  majority  boarded  a 
modest  little  motor-boat  which  had  slipped  in,  ever  so 
quietly,  during  the  half-stupor  following  upon  dinner. 
The  tiny  craft  loked  so  unreal  in  these  surroundings  that 
we  hesitated  about  trusting  our  precious  selves  to  its 
frail  keeping.  But  it  suddenly  took  matters  into  its  own 
hands  and  rushed  off  with  its  party  of  dawdling  dream- 
ers before  we  were  fully  aware  of  it.  We  could  see 
nothing  at  any  distance,  on  account  of  a  shower  of  rain 
that  accompanied  us  nearly  the  entire  distance.  To  me 
it  was  a  refreshing  sight,  because  it  came  down  like  a 
real  western  shower,  not  the  usual  tiresome  drizzle  that 
is  so  commonly  seen  in  Norway.  As  we  did  not  have 
much  else  to  occupy  our  attention,  we  watched  with 
curious  interest  the  drops  as  they  fell,  with  many  a 
splash,  into  the  seemingly  ever-unprepared,  unsuspect- 
ing, yielding  bosom  of  the  lake.  The  cabin  had  mirrors, 
slanting  inward,  over  the  windows,  and  the  reflection 
of  the  water  immediately  beneath  made  it  appear  as  if 
we  were  sailing  upside-down,  or  in  a  submarine  boat, 
with  windows  in  the  roof.  The  effect  was  weird  in  the 
extreme ;  we  decided  that  we  were  in  a  genuine  fairy 
boat,  after  all.  As  the  shower  obscured  the  view,  our 
field-glasses  and  other  sight-seeing  paraphernalia  were 
of  no  use ;  so  we  fell  back  on  unaided  eyesight.  Then, 
having  had  our  fill  of  watching  the  rain,  we  began  to 
examine  one  another.  Penned  in,  face  to  face,  we  had 
an  excellent  opportunity  for  mutual  scrutiny.  What, 
after  all,  is  so  interesting  as  this  furtive  analysis  of 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  $ 

strange  faces,  provided  only  that  our  own  be  exempted 
from  the  ordeal? 

The  queer  way  one  English  lady  was  dressed,  and 
her  really  wonderful  accent  and  enunciation,  proved  to 
our  satisfaction  that  we  had  not  been  mistaken  in  the 
abnormal  character  of  our  craft.  She  led  an  unwilling, 
unappreciative  husband  about,  fore  and  aft  and  every- 
where, while  he  yawned  in  answer  to  her  talk.  We  liked 
her,  though,  for  she  made  company  and  showered 
pleasant  looks  about.  Blessed  be  the  fellow  traveller 
who  doesn't  look  glum  and  isn't  above  talking  about 
nothing,  especially  in  a  fog  or  when  it  rains.  The  cap- 
tain, engineer,  and  ticket-puncher  were  one  and  the  same 
person,  who  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  dried-up 
and  wrinkled  Yankee.  And,  sure  enough,  he  had  tasted 
American  life  a  number  of  years  as  boss  thresher  and 
engineer,  but  had  now,  for  reasons  best  known  to  him- 
self, returned  to  his  native  heath  once  more.  He  thought 
he  spoke  English  as  though  he  knew  no  other  language, 
but  no  one  else  thought  so.  I  have  met  several  such 
homing  birds  who  claim  they  have  forgotten  the  only 
language  they  really  know  in,  say,  a  six  years'  stay  in 
America,  and  upon  their  return  pester  the  natives  and 
others  with  a  conglomeration  difficult  for  anyone  to  un- 
derstand. 

The  other  passengers  consisted  mostly  of  Nor- 
wegians and  Danes,  who  were  all  so  quiet  and  unassum- 
ing that  they  merged,  as  it  were,  into  the  general  land- 
scape, reminding  one,  with  their  yellowish  rubber  coats 
and  wraps,  of  khaki-colored  soldiers. 

While  on  board  this  boat  I  learned  that  the  outlets 
of  the  twin  lakes  Tyinn  and  Bygdin  are  to  be  dammed 


4O  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

up,  making  them  several  feet  deeper,  thus  imprisoning 
countless  cubic  feet  more  of  the  inflow,  enabling  the 
power  plants  to  tap  therefrom  a  steady  supply  of  water 
the  year  around.  It  is  led  through  big  iron  pipes  into 
the  valleys,  thousands  of  feet  below,  plunging  down- 
wards with  incredible  swiftness  and  force. 

The  busy  motor  labored  steadily  for  over  an  hour 
to  carry  us  over  this  lazy  mountain  pool,  and  once  over 
we  were  hailed  with  vociferous  acclaim  by  the  prop- 
rietor and  guests  of  Tyinnholm  Hotel.  But  I  was 
obliged  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  closer  comradeship, 
having  planned  to  climb  "Skindheggen"  and  reach  "Eids- 
bugaren,"  before  nightfall. 

I  found  Eidsbugaren  Hotel  situated  about  half  an 
hour's  walk  from  Lake  Tyinn,  overlooking  Lake  Bygdin. 
The  road  leading  to  it  had  been  well  made  as  far  as  the 
hotel,  but  dwindled  into  a  mere  mountain  path  beyond. 
Having  come  about  half-way,  I  fell  in  with  an  old  man 
who  met  my  advances  most  heartily,  volunteering  to 
give  me  all  the  information  he  possessed  regarding  the 
mountain  I  wished  to  climb.  It  lay  on  our  right,  quite 
unassuming  in  appearance;  but  I  hadn't  climbed  it  yet. 
The  old  man  told  me  he  had  climbed  it  once,  taking  the 
path  which  led  from  Eidsbugaren.  I  asked  him  if  I 
could  reach  the  top  by  a  short  cut  right  across  from 
where  we  stood.  He  thought,  perhaps  I  might.  I  asked 
further  if  there  was  any  danger  of  my  sinking  into 
bogs,  crashing  through  treacherous  ice,  or  meeting  with 
any  other  disaster.  He  thought  not.  With  such  solid 
assurance  to  gird  me  and  strengthen  my  feet,  I  set  bravely 
forth.  A  lady  whom  I  had  greeted  at  Tyinnholm  hotel, 
happening  to  pass  by,  regarded  me  fixedly  as  though  tak- 
ing her  last  look. 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  4! 

I  started  off  full  speed  at  once,  as  genuine  green- 
horns nearly  always  do.  On  account  of  the  indescriba- 
ble roughness  of  the  ground  my  steps  were  uneven  and 
irregular,  with  much  stumbling  and  staggering.  I  made 
quite  rapid  headway  in  my  own  style,  however,  but  got 
most  uncomfortably  warm,  obtaining  relief  only  by 
flinging  open  my  coat  and  vest  to  the  breeze.  There 
were  no  trees,  but  plenty  of  moss  and  shapeless  stones, 
with  here  and  there  stray  wisps  of  grass.  There  were 
innumerable  little  bogs  and  valleys,  the  former  not  with- 
out peril  to  my  progress.  But  the  bogs  bore  me  up  most 
obligingly,  and  scarcely  a  tremor  did  I  feel.  When  pass- 
ing through  the  little  valleys  I  felt  very  lonesome,  for  I 
was  quite  shut  off  from  the  world,  the  view  being 
obstructed  in  every  direction  except  directly  overhead, 
where  the  familiar,  friendly  blue  gave  encouragement, 
cheerily  beckoning  me  on.  Each  time  I  emerged  from 
a  valley  I  expected  to  find  myself  near  the  mountain- 
top,  which  seemed  but  a  stone's  throw  away,  but  this 
never  happened.  Yet,  after  numberless  repetitions  and 
disappointments,  it  finally  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  ac- 
tually gained  on  that  elusive  top  —  a  very  little.  My 
exertions  became  frantic,  and,  happening  now  for  the 
first  time  to  glance  around,  I  was  startled  at  the  height 
I  had  already  attained.  The  road  looked  no  bigger  than 
a  piece  of  twine;  the  hotels  resembled  match-boxes. 
This  moment's  halt  convinced  me,  also,  that  I  had  a  heart. 
It  was  beating  violently,  and  I  was  panting  for  breath 
and  perspiring  freely.  My  gaze  was  lifted  for  an  instant 
from  below,  and  I  had  a  glimpse  of  coming  glories ;  but 
I  resolutely  shut  my  eyes  to  them  till  I  might  enjoy  them 
undisturbed  from  the  outlook  at  the  top.  My  head  would 
turn  now  and  then  in  spite  of  myself,  and  my  eyes  would 


42  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

take  furtive  peeps,  blaming  meanwhile  the  restless  head 
for  leading  them  into  temptation.  What  could  one  do 
with  such  unruly  members? 

After  a  well-nigh  interminable  climb  over  moss- 
banks  and  other  banks,  spiteful  little  mountain  brook- 
lets, ancient  snowbeds  that  sounded  hollow  under  my 
tread,  acres  of  loose  rocks  and  boulders,  where  the  water 
hissed  between,  and  where  missteps  and  tricky  stones 
nearly  sent  me  sprawling  —  after  all  this,  and  more  be- 
sides, I  finally  arrived,  panting,  at  the  top.  Soon  the 
clouds  obligingly  parted,  enabling  the  setting  sun  to  scat- 
ter his  dying  rays  profusely  about,  richly  enhancing  the 
wonders  of  the  scene  I  turned  to  gaze  upon. 

In  the  raptures  which  followed  I  momentarily  ceased 
breathing,  and  in  the  all-pervading  stillness  there  floated 
earthwards,  spoken  as  from  afar,  the  inspired  utterance : 
"Lord  what  am  I  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  me."  Over- 
come by  the  sense  of  my  own  littleness,  I  nevertheless 
compared  the  helpless  immovability  of  these  grand  moun- 
tains with  my  own  freedom  to  go  whithersoever  I  chose, 
and  I  regained  some  measure  of  confidence  at  the 
thought  that  the  smallest  of  immortal  human  beings  is 
infinitely  more  to  the  Creator  than  all  the  towering 
peaks  of  Norway.  Like  a  forest  of  spires  appeared  the 
serried  ranks  of  heavenward-pointing  mountain  peaks, 
some  of  them  clad  in  their  primeval  garments  of  snow, 
others  gleaming  blue  or  green  in  mantles  of  ice,  and 
still  others  disclosing,  here  and  there,  their  naked  rock 
formation.  Between  my  mountain  and  the  sun  the  hither 
side  of  the  distant  peaks  showed  forbidding,  but  the 
summits  were  rimmed  as  with  purest  gold.  As  I  turned 
away  from  the  sun  toward  the  opposite  side  there  was 
revealed  to  view  the  full  glory  of  sky  and  mountain  as 


WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY  43 

the   departing  orb   of   day,   twice  magnified,   and  robed 
in  fairest  hues,  threw  back  a  good-night  kiss. 

Glancing  about  I  took  note  of  a  greyish-looking  ob- 
ject creeping  stealthily  up  the  mountain  side  toward  me. 
It  was  not  a  wolf,  dear  reader,  only  a  bit  of  fog,  a  thing 
far  more  dangerous  than  a  wolf,  coming  as  a  harbinger 
of  evil,  and  settling  like  a  pall  over  my  spirits  and  the 
scenery.  At  sight  of  it  I  hastened  with  all  speed  down 
the  mountain-side.  Though  the  fog  spread  threaten- 
ingly, the  main  body  of  it  did  not  catch  me,  and  I  ar- 
rived at  my  destination  safe  and  sound  but  drenched 
with  perspiration.  They  had  been  on  the  lookout  for  me 
at  the  hotel,  my  approach  having  been  noted  even  by  the 
lady  manager,  who  appeared  before  me  in  the  guise  of 
a  mountain  fairy,  dressed  in  fantastic  country  costume 
and  coming  far  up  the  road  to  offer  the  hand  of  wel- 
come. I  had  not  often  been  made  so  much  of,  and  con- 
sidering the  exalted  state  of  my  feelings,  all  this  kind 
attention  proved  to  be  almost  more  than  I  could  tran- 
quilly bear.  The  situation  .was  saved  by  the  wise  one 
offering  at  the  outset  a  few  commonplace  remarks,  let- 
ting me  gently  down  to  earth  again.  My  old  road  ac- 
quaintance had  worried  a  great  deal,  and  when  finally 
the  wanderer  turned  up,  he  beamed  and  cackled  as  only 
a  friendly  old  man  can  or  will  do.  The  table  was  piled 
high  with  good  things.  The  young  fairy  seemed  to  exist 
for  nothing  else  than  to  hover  near  and  see  that  the 
belated  guest  was  properly  served,  he  in  turn  forgetting 
entirely  that  she  was  paid  to  do  it,  that  others  were 
treated  just  as  considerately,  etc.,  etc.  The  other  guests 
dispersed  from  before  the  open  fire  to  give  the  newly 
arrived  wanderer  the  most  comfortable  place,  nothing 
being  too  good  to  offer  a  stranger  in  need. 


44 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  45 

Human  companionship  is  a  good  thing ;  my  lonesome 
mountain  trip  had  taught  me  that,  sharply  whetting  my 
desire  for  it.  At  such  times  one  can  hardly  refrain  from 
giggling  at  every  word  that  is  said,  nor  from  caressing 
every  shoulder,  or  slapping  every  knee  within  arm's 
reach.  We  smiled  lovingly  at  each  other  above  smoking 
pipes,  and  I  remember  taking  deep  draughts  of  the 
smoke-laden  air,  smoke  that  had  already  explored  the 
recesses  of  every  man's  lungs  in  the  room,  and  that  other- 
wise would  have  been  obnoxious  to  me,  but  was  now 
tolerated,  yea  enjoyed,  considering  the  occasion.  In  our 
readiness  to  laugh,  the  climax  of  every  story  told  was 
killed,  the  noise  of  mirth  utterly  overwhelming  the 
vehicles  which  should  give  it  cause. 

We  were  put  to  bed,  one  apiece,  in  single,  narrow 
little  beds  with  a  board  in  front  to  keep  us  from  tumbl- 
ing out.  Broadly  speaking,  this  gives  the  Norwegian  a 
certain  sense  of  security  when  he  sleeps.  For  a  covering 
I  had  a  quilt  stuffed  with  feathers,  but  feeling  chilly  in 
the  cool  rarefied  mountain  air,  after  my  recent  frenzied 
exertions,  I  added  two  more  belonging  to  unused  beds 
in  the  same  tiny  room,  snuggling  happily  underneath 
with  deep  chuckles  of  contentment. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  I  felt  any  drowsiness,  hav- 
ing exerted  myself  too  violently  during  the  day,  and 
also  expecting  every  moment  the  coming  of  darkness. 
But  the  daylight  continued  all  night.  I  lay  long  watch- 
ing the  snow-capped  mountains  through  my  window,  a 
prey  to  their  hypnotic  influence.  So  tense  became  my 
gaze  that  they  finally  took  to  moving,  exchanging  posi- 
tion, nodding  to  each  other,  and  doing  other  ridiculous 
things.  After  they  began  to  dance  I  do  not  remember 
clearly  any  more;  only  I  had  a  vague  feeling  as  of  be- 


46  WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY 

ing  under  them  and  that  they  were  all  feathers.  I  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  shake  them  off,  and  awoke  just  in 
time  to  see  the  two  upper  feather  quilts  sliding  to  the 
floor.  I  was  wide  awake  on  the  instant,  feeling,  at  the 
same  time,  desperate  pangs  of  hunger.  This  I  was 
luckily  enabled  to  satisfy  by  devouring  the  lunch  the 
hotel  maids  had  prepared  for  an  early  morning  start. 
To  the  future  recurrence  of  hunger  I  gave  no  thought. 


CHAPTER  IV 
An  Excursion  with  the  Dane  and  his  Daughter 

CHERE  was  no  more  dreaming  for  me  that  night, 
the  body  refusing  to  become  quiescent  after  en- 
during such  rapturous  torments  during  the  day. 
We  were  to  start  for  Gjendeboden  at  six,  but  as  the  Dane 
and  his  daughter,  who  were  to  accompany  me,  failed  to 
appear  even  after  I  had  waited   for  an  hour  for  them, 
I  started  out  alone.     Just  before  leaving,  I  viewed  the 
hut  of  the  poet  Vinje  where  years  ago  he  used  to  seek 
the  solitude  of  the  mountains  to  create  lofty  verse  that 
was  to  set  future  generations  thinking. 

My  way  led  over  a  narrow  log,  nearly  two  rods  long, 
spanning  a  rushing  mountain  torrent,  where  the  swirl 
and  turmoil  drove  the  passer-by  nearly  distracted,  and 
the  dizzy  height  of  the  frail  bridge  increased  the  danger 
of  the  passage.  Finding  nothing  but  cow  tracks  beyond 
the  log,  I  wondered  if  I  had  unwittingly  come  in  the 
wake  of  the  cattle  instead  of  following  the  paths  of  my 
own  kind.  I  kept  moving  on,  however,  till  even  the 
cow  tracks  disappeared,  when  I  decided  to  pause  and 
reconnoiter.  I  then  took  my  first  look  downwards,  to- 
ward the  hotel,  and  saw  to  my  surprise  that  several 
people  were  leveling  their  glasses  at  me.  I  compre- 
hended the  situation  at  once.  I  was  on  the  wrong  track ! 
But  I  wouldn't  own  up  before  all  those  people,  and  sud- 
denly sat  down,  as  if  allowing  myself  a  much  needed 
rest.  I  sat  uncomfortably  still  for  a  while,  but  soon 
tiring  of  this  I  began  picking  flowers,  meanwhile  saun- 

(47) 


48  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

taring  idly  back  in  the  direction  I  had  come.  After  I 
had  gathered  a  bouquet  large  enough  to  fill  several  bas- 
kats,  and  rested  more  than  amply  in  return  for  the  extra 
effort  of  yesterday,  the  Dane  and  his  daughter  appeared, 
each  astride  a  horse.  I  silently  fell  in  with  them  and 
my  secret  was  safe;  no  one  knew  I  had  been  lost. 

We  meandered  along  the  shores  of  Lake  Bygdin 
for  an  hour  or  so  before  beginning  the  steep  climb  which 
leads  over  the  high  ridge  separating  it  from  its  neighbor, 
Lake  Gjendin.  Here  the  Dane  and  his  daughter  were 
obliged  to  dismount,  as  the  ponies  had  all  they  could  do 
to  drag  themselves  up  the  steep  incline.  The  good  old 
Dane  would  fain  have  ridden,  for  his  heart  was  weak. 
Noting  a  great  waterfall  near  our  path,  he  exclaimed : 
"Oh,  why  is  that  water  so  uselessly  toppling  over  the  cliff 
yonder?  If  it  were  harnessed  to  an  elevator,  I  could 
become  a  passenger,  and  be  spared  the  tortures  of  this 
climb."  Oh  fie !  to  think  of  spoiling  the  picturesqueness 
of  old  Jotunheim  by  putting  in  such  modern  improve- 
ments as  that !  Please  allow  us  to  get  into  the  moun- 
tains, to  a  taste  of  the  primitive,  and  be  rid  of  modern 
vehicles  for  a  day. 

The  rarefied  mountain  air  was  expired  as  soon  as 
drawn  in,  the  lungs  finding  it  thin  and  unsatisfying,  yet 
compelled  to  use  it.  The  heart  would,  now  and  then, 
slip  a  cog  or  two  in  sympathy  —  thus  quoth  the  Dane. 
His  seventeen-year-old  minx  of  a  daughter  sped  like  a 
goat  up  the  incline,  being  seemingly  unaware  of  the 
presence  of  any  such  organ,  she  having  —  who  knows  ? — 
perhaps  already  lost  hers.  She  edged  as  closely  as  pos- 
sible to  where  the  leaping  waters  roared  and  thundered. 
There  is  peculiar  fascination  in  tempting  fate,  especially 
for  young  folks,  and  not  the  least  when  standing  on  the 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  49 

brink  of  a  precipice  or  beside  a  roaring  waterfall.  The 
seething,  hissing  water  seemed  to  invite  participation  in 
its  frightful  play,  the  flying  forms  of  foam  reaching  out 
with  beckoning  arms,  as  if  eager  to  caress  and  clasp 
the  dizzy  victim  in  their  hollow  embrace.  No  wonder 
the  old,  experienced  Dane  held  his  hand  ready  to  hinder 
the  swaying  of  the  thoughtless  thing  leaning  over  the 
abyss,  should  the  call  of  the  swirling,  maddening  ele- 
ment enthrall  her  senses. 

Once  past  the  steepest  places,  the  Dane  and  his 
daughter  mounted  their  respective  steeds  again,  I  follow- 
ing behind  in  the  same  fashion  as  before.  Though  we 
did  not  pass  any  snow-drifts,  we  met  with  but  very  little 
vegetation,  even  the  moss  having  disappeared.  There 
were  bare,  dreary-looking  rocks  below  and  above,  around 
us  and  everywhere,  of  various  shapes  and  sizes ;  also  in- 
numerable loose  stones  of  no  particular  pattern,  lying 
in  wait  along  our  path,  seemingly  assembled  on  purpose 
to  dispute  our  progress  and  make  trouble.  The  ponies, 
however,  through  much  practice  had  become  pretty  well 
used  to  them.  It  was  interesting  to  watch  their  legs  from 
behind  as  they  were  lifted  and  flung  in  every  direction 
to  avoid  those  horrid  obstructions.  Their  hind  legs, 
especially,  seemed  to  have  eyes  of  their  own. 

While  we  were  in  the  midst  of  this  dreary  region 
where  noise  seldom  intrudes,  all  forms  of  life  keeping 
a  proper  distance,  the  stillness  was  suddenly  broken  by 
the  shrill,  penetrating  scream  of  an  eagle.  Soon  its  mate 
joined  in  with  a  still  wilder  cry,  and  their  voices,  blend- 
ing in  vociferous  protest,  told  us  very  plainly  that  they 
not  only  saw  us,  but  hotly  resented  our  intrusion.  It  ap- 
peared that  they  had  their  home  on  a  neighboring  peak 
to  the  left.  "Oh,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "how  I  should 
4 


50  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

like  to  have  a  peep  at  the  nest  and  the  ugly  nestlings, 
all  surrounded  by  bleached  bones  and  bloody  feathers !" 
Upon  second  thought,  however,  she  concluded  she  would 
as  lief  not  see  the  nest,  owing  to  its  gory  aspect,  and 
since  the  owners  were  hopping  mad  and  had  talons.  Be- 
sides, it  would  be  a  matter  of  some  effort  to  reach  it, 
the  eagles,  true  to  their  instinct,  having  selected  their 
family  retreat,  even  in  this  out  of  the  way  place,  in  the 
most  inaccessible  spot  to  be  found. 

Having  come  about  half-way,  we  reached  a  level 
spot  where  grass  had  dared  to  take  root,  even  having 
had  the  temerity  to  carpet  the  ground  with  a  pale  green. 
Here  we  met  an  aged  couple,  a  minister  and  his  wife, 
who  sat  eating  bread  and  cheese,  hungry  and  happy,  and 
as  chipper  as  could  be.  How  we  all  admired  them !  To 
think  of  their  amiable  boldness  in  pushing  into  these 
wilds  on  such  tottering  limbs,  and  at  their  time  of  life ! 
They  loved  the  mountains,  they  said,  and  could  not  stay 
away.  They  told  us  of  another  aged  enthusiast,  aged 
seventy-nine,  who  this  summer  made  his  thirtieth  annual 
climb.  May  he  make  thirty  more ! 

After  the  halt,  the  ponies  walked  along  briskly, 
having  in  view  the  feed  boxes  at  Gjendeboden,  and  being 
now  on  the  downward  incline,  which  led  to  our  destina- 
tion. They  had  evidently  rested  well  the  day  before,  and 
now  made  use  of  their  stored-up  strength  in  rapidly  out- 
stripping the  tired  chronicler  of  these  events.  I  thought 
the  Dane  would  have  divined  my  predicament,  and  would 
have  dismounted  to  stretch  his  long  legs  a  bit,  thus  allow- 
ing my  trembling  ones  a  brief  respite  astride  his  sprightly 
steed ;  but  this  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  him.  Our 
divinity  in  front  forgot  us  entirely  and  swung  joyfully 
along  in  splendid  style,  the  faster  the  better.  But  I 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  51 

determined  not  to  get  left,  hating  to  be  mooning  around 
alone,  so  drew  on  a  supply  of  strength  left  over  from 
former  times,  let  the  will  take  command,  and  was  sur- 
prised to  find  how  readily  the  drooping  spirits  obeyed 
its  behests.  I  kept  close  to  the  merciless  creature  in 
front,  and  came  to  the  hotel  hot  and  homely,  but  just 
as  promptly  as  she.  I  was  in  no  particularly  sweet  mood 
to  return  her  congratulations,  but  cheered  up  a  bit  when 
I  heard  her  complain  of  stiffness,  and  felt  a  deep  satis- 
faction in  knowing  that  the  morrow  would  find  her  limbs 
in  a  much  worse  condition  than  mine,  she  not  being  used 
to  riding. 

I  ought  to  have  been  hungry,  but  the  violent  exer- 
tion had  destroyed  my  appetite  for  the  time  being.  Din- 
ner threatening  to  become  stale,  I  did  manage  to  eat, 
but  with  no  relish  whatever.  I  rose  from  the  table  with 
the  sensations  of  a  man  who  has  gone  through  a  useless 
ceremony  and  continued  a  purposeless  habit,  which, 
however,  he  feels  intuitively  that  he  can  not  lightly  break 
away  from.  Leaning  back  in  my  chair,  I  noted  a  certain 
blurring  before  the  eyes,  upon  which  I  decided  to  try 
the  recuperating  effect  of  a  nap. 

I  slept  in  a  newly  built  pine  cottage,  where  the 
rooms  were  of  the  tiniest  and  the  partitions  scarcely 
more  than  screens,  allowing  free  passage  to  every  slight- 
est sound.  But  as  sleep  is  common  property  in  the 
mountains,  few  were  disturbed.  All  the  beds  creaked 
and  were  rather  hard ;  but  everyone,  without  grumbling, 
took  to  his  couch,  obeying  the  sweet,  soothing  call  of 
nature,  and  forgetting  all  about  the  usual  springs  and 
feathers  and  pillows  of  down.  The  furnishings  were, 
otherwise,  beautifully  simple ;  but  as  "man  wants  but 
little  here  below,"  no  one  complained.  The  cheap  look- 


52  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

ing-glass  discovered  irregularity  of  feature  where  none 
had  been  before.  If  soap  was  asked  for,  it  was  charged 
as  "extra."  Many  performed  their  ablutions,  soapless 
and  without  ceremony,  in  the  soft,  clean  snow.  There 
was  abundant  good  cheer,  though  few  modern  conve- 
niences in  this  remote  and  primitive  hostelry.  But  no  one 
lived  any  less  fully,  thought  less  clearly,  or  aspired  less 
nobly,  because  of  the  lack  of  a  few  superfluities  which,  at 
home,  have  grown  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  our  very 
selves.  In  the  mountains  one  comes  to  think  that  too 
much  luxury  makes  us  blase,  inclining  us  to  turn  away 
from  the  poetry  of  life. 

We  found  here  a  whole  family  that  had  fled  from 
civilization  and  appeared  clad  in  bloomers,  closely  fitting 
woolen  jackets,  Santa  Claus  caps,  and  iron-rimmed  boots 
with  ample  room  for  the  feet.  It  was  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish the  male  head  of  this  family,  for  he  wore  fluffy 
knee-breeches  arid  other  garments  to  match,  and,  when 
ensconced  in  the  bosom  of  his  flock,  might  easily  have 
been  taken  for  the  wife  and  mother,  so  far  as  costume 
was  concerned.  They  refused  to  be  upset  by  curious 
looks,  returning  glance  for  glance,  in  complete  freedom 
from  self-consciousness.  They  hopped,  they  danced, 
they  laughed,  making  merry  till  the  very  hills  sang  with 
sympathetic  murmers.  They  "seasoned  their  repast  with 
mirth,"  and  enjoyed  to  the  full  every  breath  of  the  brac- 
ing mountain  air. 

I  could  have  resigned  myself  indefinitely  to  these 
happy  surroundings,  but  the  call  of  the  wild  was  upon 
me,  Galdh^piggen  beckoned  in  the  distance,  and  on  I 
must  go, 


CHAPTER  V 
I  Push  on  with  a  Guide 

CHOUGH  it  rained  and  stormed  in  the  morning,  the 
nap  of  yesterday  and  a  good  night's  sleep  had 
rejuvenated  the  body  and  revived  the  spirits,  en- 
abling me  to  laugh  in  the  face  of  the  elements  as  we 
fared  forth.  I  had  not  the  regulation  tourist  trappings, 
consisting  of  heavy  boots,  thick  clothing,  rainproof  coat 
and  a  bag  of  extra  raiment  on  my  back,  but  merely  an 
every  day  outfit  of  calf-skin  shoes,  rubbers,  light  under- 
clothing, cheviot  suit  and  ulster,  a  stand-up  collar,  stiff 
hat,  and  a  faded-looking  umbrella  to  top  off  with.  Had 
I  known  for  a  certainty  when  I  deposited  my  baggage 
at  Fagerlund  hotel  that  I  was  destined  for  devious  ways 
among  sleeping  hills  beyond  the  clouds,  with  no  date 
set  for  the  return,  I  should,  no  doubt,  have  made  due 
provision  as  the  others  did. 

The  mirth-provoking  umbrella  proved  to  be  invalua- 
ble as  a  protection  from  the  pelting,  driving  rain,  to 
which  my  umbrella-less  guide  was  mercilessly  exposed. 
But,  drenched  to  the  skin  though  he  soon  became,  he 
minded  it  not,  being  of  a  sturdy  frame  and  in  perfect 
health.  He  walked  ahead  and  I  in  his  footsteps.  Peer- 
ing forth  under  the  rim  of  my  umbrella,  I  took  such 
note  of  the  surroundings  as  I  could  in  the  fog  and  rain. 
Some  intrepid  mountain  flowers,  in  full  bloom,  were 
visible  beneath  a  protecting  ledge,  and  from  their  cozy 
nestling  place,  they  swayed  gaily  back  and  forth,  cheer- 
ing the  passing  plodders  on  their  way.  Ryper  (ptar- 

(53) 


54 


WALKING    'iklPS    IN    NORWAY 


migan)  hurtled  by,  cleaving  the  air  with  a  whiz  and 
hum,  leaving  us  at  an  apparent  standstill.  Startled  hares 
formed  sudden  streaks  in  the  mist,  picking  their  be- 
wildering course  with  unfaltering,  unerring  instinct.  Sly 
Reynard  peeped  forth,  half  wishing  to  pursue,  yet  mind- 
ful of  the  comfort  of  a  dry,  well-kept  den.  The  weather 
not  suiting  him  at  all,  the  bear  stayed  at  home,  licking 
his  chaps,  and  preparing  an  appetite  for  the  feast  to 


Drawing    by 
E.   Biorn. 

Crossing  the  mountains. 

come.  Leman  (lemming)  that  had  ventured  away  from 
their  homes  in  the  moss-banks  under  the  snow,  lay 
strewn  about,  dying  and  dead,  thus  paying  for  their 
too  great  temerity.  The  guide  spoke  of  Gjerv  (glutton), 
but  look  as  we  might,  none  of  these  scavengers  could  be 
seen.  The  reindeer  stayed  out  in  the  rain,  feeding  on 
moss,  darting  hither  and  thither,  fleet  as  the  dawn,  cool- 
ing off  on  seemingly  inaccessible  snow  beds  by  day,  and 
seeking  shelter,  who  knows  where,  at  night.  The  song- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  55 

birds  were  hushed,  for  we  had  left  all  trees  behind,  only 
a  twittering  here  and  there  betokening  a  few  of  their 
cousins  that  had  come  to  keep  us  company.  The 
quacking  of  ducks  pierced  the  stillness  from  above,  and 
their  eager,  lurching  bodies  sped  past  as  if  fleeing  from 
pursuit. 

The  path  was  lost  to  sight,  yet  the  guide  pressed 
unhesitatingly,  unfalteringly  on,  seemingly  never  at  a 
loss,  never  in  uncertainty.  We  labored  up  endless  in- 
clines, only  to  find  others  further  on.  We  crossed  miles 
of  rough,  jagged  stones,  appearing  as  if  carelessly  quar- 
ried; obstacles  protruded  from  the  cavernous  depths,  to 
add  to  our  difficulties.  A  misstep  meant  bruised  shins, 
sprains,  and  sometimes  broken  bones.  Watchful  eyes 
were  necessary.  Treacherous  loose  stones,  precariously 
balanced,  till  disturbed  by  the  tap  of  a  passing  foot, 
were  feared  the  most;  for,  suddenly,  one  would  play 
false,  and  unless  a  new  footing  was  instantly  gained, 
a  bad  fall  might  result.  My  rubbers  hugged  the  stones 
firmly,  enabling  me  to  pass  the  day  without  sustaining 
a  single  fall.  They  were  to  be  preferred  in  hopping 
thus  from  stone  to  stone,  but,  on  our  arrival  at  the  snow 
beds,  my  guide,  with  his  great  boots,  claimed  superiority. 
The  rubbers  would  sink  in  too  deep,  allowing  the  thaw- 
ing snow  to  plaster  the  ankles,  and  even  threatening  the 
calves.  At  times  they  would  slip  off,  held  fast  in  the 
embracing  snow.  Toiling  along  over  the  snow  beds,  a 
question  occurred  to  me,  which  I  at  once  put  to  my 
guide,  and  in  this  form :  "Do  you  suspect  any  treach- 
erous places  lying  in  wait  for  us?"  "None  at  all,  in 
these  smaller  drifts,"  came  the  reassuring  response.  IjJut 
no  seoner  were  the  words  out  of  his  mouth  than  he  dis- 
appeared. This  took  place  near  the  edge  of  a  drift,  and 


56  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

as  he  scrambled  out  he  hastened  to  explain  that  these 
shallow,  jagged  edges  would  sometimes  take  the  oppor- 
tunity to  trim  up  by  letting  down  a  passing  tourist,  fur- 
nishing him  a  scare  and  them  a  new  face. 

We  crossed  no  large  glaciers  that  day,  but  waded 
over  innumerable  brooklets  of  glacial  origin,  swollen  by 
the  recent  protracted  rain.  We  managed  to  hop  across  on 
the  stones  so  liberally  strewn  about,  but  did  not  get  over 
dry-shod.  In  passing  over  narrow  ledges  and  gazing 
down  stupendous  heights,  I  took  to  pondering  divers 
curious  matters,  not  the  least  of  which,  it  seemed  to  me, 
was  the  body's  power  to  retain  its  balance.  What  is  this 
mysterious  directing  force  that  causes  the  muscles  to 
contract  and  relax,  enabling  the  body  to  keep  its  equili- 
brium, while  sight,  thought  and  reason,  may  be  occupied 
with  a  distant  mountain  peak?  Never  before  had  I  so 
fully  appreciated  this  hidden  sense  as  on  this  day  of 
perilous  experience  in  the  heart  of  the  Jotunheim. 

We  saw  figures  of  giants  that  almost  seemed  to  be 
moving,  and  near  the  top  of  one  mighty  Jokul  there 
appeared,  silhouetted  amid  rocks  and  snow,  the  exact 
likeness  of  a  princely  black  steed,  rearing  imperiously  on 
its  haunches,  as  if  about  to  plunge  down  the  yawning 
declivity  in  front,  in  one  mighty,  surpassing  leap.  Un- 
couth rock  formations  loomed  menacingly  above,  as  we 
timorously  stole  along  beneath,  eagerly  hurrying  our 
steps  as  if  in  apology  for  our  unwilling  trespass.  We 
had  come  unbidden,  happening  on  Nature's  wash-day ; 
hence  such  a  scowling  face  and  sulky  reception.  But 
as  the  steam-laden  atmosphere  of  the  kitchen  clears  when 
the  washing  is  finished,  so  did  the  sun  shine  serenely 
forth  as  the  well  rinsed  clouds,  all  strung  out,  willingly 
lent  room,  that  its  rays  might  have  free  play  and  brighten 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  57 

our  way.  The  rocks  now  remained  quiescent,  and  the 
fog,  panic-stricken,  lifted,  and  bundled  frantically  away 
in  vast  vapory  masses,  seeking  egress  in  the  first  available 
cleft  or  pass  in  the  mountains.  The  sunbeams  danced 
about  us,  kissing  dry  the  face  of  the  weeping  rock, 
sparkling  mischievously  in  the  tears  of  the  ragged 
heather,  and  peeping  audaciously  into  sad,  secret  caverns, 
where  none  other  might  enter.  They  brought  to  view 
objects  quite  overlooked  in  the  gloom,  all  now  arrayed 
in  light  and  sending  their  radiance  even  to  the  hungry 
soul  sitting  awake  in  our  eyes.  They  revealed  to  us  a 
beautiful  little  flower,  the  staunchest  of  them  all,  cling- 
ing to  the  moss  at  the  very  foot  of  a  glacier.  It  never 
would  have  obtruded  itself  on  our  vision,  had  we  not 
caught  it  unawares,  leaning  its  head  over  the  bosom 
of  the  snow.  It  had  journeyed  hither  at  the  behest  of  its 
Maker,  to  make  company  for  its  snow-sister  doomed 
to  utter  quietude  and  perpetual  banishment  from  all 
other  faces  of  bloom,  with  the  accompanying  twitter  of 
life  and  joyousness. 

Descending  into  a  little  valley  sparsely  clothed  in 
vegetation,  we  were  astonished  to  meet  with  a  herd  of 
young  cattle  feeding  on  these  scanty  growths.  We  ap- 
proached warily,  for  fear  of  stampeding  them,  exercising 
such  caution,  also,  in  consideration  of  the  possibility  of 
their  charging  us.  But  we  might  have  spared  ourselves 
these  stealthy,  cunning  moves,  for  they  were  not  a  bit 
surprised,  and  continued  their  feeding  only  the  more 
energetically,  as  we  drew  near.  Arrived  in  their  midst, 
we  were  the  ones  who  moved  out  of  the  way,  not  they. 
One  steer  had  evidently  sustained  a  very  serious  fall, 
for  his  hide  was  badly  lacerated.  The  succulent  grass 
had  tempted  him  to  stretch  too  far,  and  he,  not  having 


58  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

goats  legs,  had  slipped.  But  he  seemed  none  the  worse 
for  his  unlucky  plunge,  moving  about  as-  nimbly  as  the 
others.  He  honored  us  with  an  absent-minded  glance, 
as  if  we  had  been  of  no  more  consequence  than  a  hare 
or  a  mouse.  The  cattle  were  all  of  a  small  breed,  being 
but  the  offshoots  of  those  tender,  esthetical-looking, 
flower-eating,  saeter  cows.  They  had  been  left  by  a 
cattle  speculator  in  this  free  pasturage  to  fatten  for 
market. 

We  carried  lunches  in  our  pockets,  but  were  so 
fastidious  in  our  selection  of  a  halting-place  that  we 
walked  by  all  the  most  favored  nooks,  finally  settling 
wrathfully  in  the  least  inviting  spot  of  all.  To  aggravate 
the  situation,  the  clouds  gathered  again,  and  falling  rain- 
drops soaked  our  bread  while  passing  from  hand  to 
mouth.  The  atmosphere  itself  was  saturated.  We  sat 
in  damp,  dank  misery  for  a  while,  till  the  tasteless  mor- 
sels had  been  safely  bestowed,  when  we  stretched  our 
clammy  limbs,  laboriously  rose,  and  unenthusiastically 
set  forth  again.  The  guide  made  several  ineffectual  at- 
tempts to  light  his  pipe,  but  failed  utterly  and  ignomini- 
ously.  To  sing  was  an  impossibility  in  the  mood  then 
possessing  us.  To  talk  was  unpleasant,  as  open  mouths 
admitted  dampness.  Though  we  did  not  grumble,  had 
we  met  the  Philosopher  of  Cheerfulness  just  then  it 
would  not  have  gone  well  with  him.  We  sought  safety 
in  silence  and  ceaseless  motion ;  pessimism  is  tabooed 
in  the  mountains.  We  walked  on  in  the  manner  previ- 
ously described,  continuing  our  seesaw  motion  so  steadily 
that  at  last  it  exerted  upon  us  a  half-hypnotic  influence. 

After  what  seemed  an  eternity  my  guide  announced 
quietly  that  we  had  now  entered  upon  the  downward 
incline  which,  in  an  hour  or  so,  would  terminate  not 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  59 

far  from  the  threshold  of  Spiterstulen.  Upon  hearing 
this,  new  life  awoke  within  me,  and  I  plied  my  com- 
panion with  a  rapid  succession  of  questions.  He  was 
required  to  name  all  the  snow-peaks  we  passed,  the 
brooks  and  rivers  we  saw,  the  mosses  and  ferns  we 
espied,  and  much  else  that  I  have  forgotten.  We  soon 
entered  a  valley  where  a  stream  had  subsided  into  silence 
and  was  taking  a  nap,  though  a  few  minutes  before  it  had 
leaped  in  frenzied  madness  down  the  mountain  side. 
Some  frothy  little  bubbles  remained  as  evidence  of  its 
former  turbulence.  But  its  rest  was  of  short  duration. 
We  soon  came  to  a  place  where  a  swift,  smooth  under- 
current was  pulling  it  down  another  incline  without  so 
much  as  a  warning  ripple  on  its  surface,  only  to  precipi- 
tate it,  headlong,  into  a  hissing  kettle  below,  where 
greenish  heads  of  fearful-looking  boulders  bobbed  up 
and  down,  as  the  helpless  waters  crashed  down  upon 
them.  Frantically  it  sought  exit  in  every  direction,  only 
to  be  thrown  back  again  by  solid  walls  of  rock;  but  it 
did  at  last  effect  its  escape  from  that  seething  cauldron. 
And  so  it  was  rushed  from  place  to  place,  causing  a 
mighty  uproar  for  the  benefit  of  wayfarers  on  its  banks, 
and  making  them  dumb  and  speechless  by  its  incessant, 
deafening  plaint.  We  crossed  an  angry  torrent  just 
escaped  from  the  interior  of  a  mighty  drift,  its  ruffled 
bosom  showing  white  from  its  tremendous  churning  in 
the  womb  of  the  clay-splashed,  grinding,  crunching, 
slowly  shifting  glacier.  Such  light-colored,  limy,  clayey 
matter,  mingled  with  the  water,  causes  the  greenish  tint 
seen  in  mountain  lakes  or  adjacent  fjords. 


CHAPTER  VI 
Fun  and  Frolic  at  Spiterstulen 

~1  •  FEW  minutes  more  of  stiff  walking  brought  us 
§"fl  to  our  haven  of  rest,  the  long  looked-for  Spiter- 
J  I  stulen  saeter  hut.  We  dared  enter  without 
knocking,  no  one  resenting  the  intrusion.  We  were  met 
by  the  saeter-owner  himself,  who  congratulated  us  on 
our  rapid  journey,  he  calculating  that  we  had  made  the 
trip  two  hours  quicker  than  was  ordinarily  done.  Hear- 
ing this,  the  guide  and  I  looked  upon  each  other  with 
much  approval.  There  was  admiration  also  in  the  eyes 
of  the  dairy  maid,  but  not  for  me,  the  guide  being  the 
younger  and  more  fit.  They  both  beamed  on  me,  how- 
ever, when  my  crowns  came  in  evidence,  for  six  of  them 
were  due  him  for  his  companionship,  and  she,  bright 
thing,  knew  very  well  that  I  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse 
her  a  gratuity.  She  squeezed  the  guide  into  her  tiny 
kitchen,  where  sat  a  couple  of  other  men  smoking.  Me 
she  led  into  a  large  room  where  there  was  a  "peis"  (fire- 
place) and  a  large  table,  with  several  doors  opening  into 
adjacent  bedrooms.  I  was  left  here  to  dry  out  and  com- 
pose myself  as  best  I  might.  Upon  entering,  my  eyes 
being  more  famihir  with  the  brighter  light  out  of  doors, 
could  not  readily  adjust  themselves  to  the  gloom,  smaller 
objects  remaining,  for  a  certain  space  of  time,  undefined. 
I  had  been  vaguely  aware  of  a  formless  heap  before  the 
"peis"  during  the  first  few  moments,  but  the  several  im- 
pressions received  immediately  upon  my  entering  had 
not  allowed  the  centering  of  thought  or  attention  upon 
any  one  thing  in  particular.  But  suddenly  my  attention 

(60) 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  6l 

was  drawn  to  the  aforesaid  heap,  which  with  many  con- 
tortions was  now  rapidly  changing  its. outline.  Nor  did 
it  settle  back  into  its  former  folds ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
lifted  up  one  end,  which  rose  higher  and  higher  and 
finally  resolved  itself,  fully  straightened  out  and  ad- 
justed, into  a  very  correct,  tall,  angular  Englishman. 
The  remainder  of  the  heap  also  partook  of  form  and 
much  motion,  becoming,  when  disentangled,  three  lark- 
ing maidens,  Viking  girls  in  quest  of  mountain  joy,  all  ' 
hailing  from  the  capital.  Their  simultaneous  rising  was 
intended  as  a  salute  to  the  newcomer,  and  I  no  doubt 
took  it  as  such.  Nevertheless  the  apparition  caused  me 
to  make  a  sudden  dive  into  the  nearest  bedroom.  I  felt 
unequal  to  the  demands  of  the  occasion,  considering  my 
much-bedraggled  state.  In  my  solitary  nook  I  quitted 
the  faithful  umbrella,  and  the  dilapidated  foot-gear, 
and  washed  my  face  and  hands,  this  being,  however, 
quite  unnecessary,  which,  also,  requires  no  explanation. 
But  the  towel  worked  wonders,  as  did  the  brush,  and 
having  meanwhile  begged  a  pair  of  dry  stockings  and 
slippers  from  the  friendly  host,  I  was  enabled  to  emerge 
tranquil,  combed  and  restored,  before  the  good  company. 
They  had  by  now  settled  on  benches  before  the  blaze, 
chattering  incessantly,  throwing  pine-knots  on  the  flames 
to  enjoy  the  sparks  and  to  dissipate  the  rain,  which  fell 
in  a  respectable  shower  through  the  wide,  yawning 
chimney.  There  was  a  general  scramble  for  the  privilege 
of  surrendering  to  me  their  respective  places,  but  the 
pleasure  of  acceptance  was  spoiled,  for  I  could  fill  only 
one.  I  ensconced  myself  in  the  midst  of  the  gathering, 
and  in  this  atmosphere  of  kindness,  with  a  fire  in  front 
to  soothe  and  dry  the  tortured  limbs,  my  spirits  revived, 
and  calm  content  filled  my  soul. 


62  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

While  I  had  been  occupied  in  brushing  up,  the  num- 
ber of  guests  had  been  augmented  by  the  arrival  of  three 
bright-faced  students,  who  had  also  been  received  into 
the  cheerful  circle  about  the  peis.  Soon  there  were  more 
arrivals;  this  time  it  was  two  ladies,  who  were  promtply 
ushered  into  the  ring  by  the  indefatigable  host,  they 
being  made  instantly  welcome,  and  all  vying  with  one 
another  in  being  gracious  and  kind.  They  were  Danish 
schookna'ams  out  for  a  holiday,  and  were  filled  to  the 
brim  with  enthusiasm,  having  hunted  their  own  way  in 
the  wilds,  where  they  met  with  adventures  which  they 
eagerly  recounted.  The  conversation,  which  had  hitherto 
been  carried  on  chiefly  in  Norwegian ;  was  now  richly 
spiced  with  Danish.  These  two  languages,  closely  related 
as  they  are,  supplemented  each  other  well.  But  when 
the  solitary  Englishman  began  to  look  yearningly  from 
one  to  the  other,  as  if  desiring  a  better  understanding, 
we  took  pity  on  him,  and  adopted  his  tongue  as  a  com- 
mon vehicle  of  expression.  All  could  converse  quite 
freely  in  his  language,  and  thus,  he  remaining  true  to 
English  habit  and  traditions,  was  spared  the  pain  of  ac- 
quiring any  other. 

Almost  on  the  heels  of  the  Danes  appeared  an 
elderly  maiden  with  a  youth  in  her  train,  captured  on 
the  march,  and  now  made  to  act  as  her  escort,  both 
being  headed  in  the  same  direction.  There  "was  no  ques- 
tion of  surrendering  a  place  to  her,  for  she  immediately 
took  one,  allowing,  meanwhile  her  charge  to  shift  for 
himself.  She  had  taught  school  all  her  life,  bringing  her 
school-room  atmosphere  with  her,  cackling  and  bustling 
about  as  if  all  the  world  were  her  scholars  to  be  bene- 
fited by  her  learning,  precept  and  example.  As  soon  as 
opportunity  offered,  the  modest  man.  of  Leeds  ventured 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  63 

to  tell  us  that  he  had  been  joined  by  his  three  lady  com- 
panions while  attempting  to  cross  the  Memuru  glacier 
all  alone  that  day.  He  had  been  roped  in  by  them,  they 
being  touched  by  his  loneliness,  and  they  bade  their  guide 
tie  the  knot  securely  that  they  might  serve  him  in  a 
union  of  safety  while  crossing  the  treacherous  places. 
They  had  let  him  loose  when  the  danger  was  over,  but, 
grown  used  to  their  company,  he  had  remained  a  willing 
captive  in  their  ranks  till  now. 

I  had  been  making  silent  query,  for  some  little  time, 
as  to  the  characters  I  had  fallen  in  with,  and  directly, 
as  if  in  answer  to  it,  a  turn  in  the  conversation  informed 
me  that  I  was  brushing  elbows  with  the  son  of  a  former 
chief  justice  who  was,  besides,  a  near  relative  of  Ole 
Bull,  and  yes,  even  also  Edvard  Grieg.  A  voice  issuing 
in  sonorous  accents  from  under  a  table  in  the  corner 
of  the  room  betrayed,  through  various  shadings  and  in- 
tonations, the  origin  of  its  author,  the  genuine  son  of  his 
father,  a  famous  manager-actor,  said  to  be  a  member  of 
the  French  academy,  etc.  And  the  mother  was 
known  throughout  the  kingdom  for  her  famous  roles  and 
impersonations.  From  his  gloomy  retreat  this  bright- 
witted  scion  of  stock  histrionic  made  sudden  excursions 
on  all  fours  across  the  floor  to  pick  up  handkerchiefs, 
rings  and  other  objects  dropped  by  the  ladies,  returning 
them  with  homely  obeisance  and  an  abjectly  apologetical, 
sprawling  attitude.  His  antics  excited  the  heartiest  mer- 
riment, increased,  perhaps,  by  his  name  and  student's 
cap.  Some  sought  to  discover  the  identity  of  the  three 
graces  who  had  the  gentleman  from  England  in  tow ;  but 
it  was  not  to  be  revealed  to  us,  though  a  wild  conjec- 
ture was  hazarded  that  they  might  be  princesses  in 
disguise. 


64  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

This  being  settled,  enquiry  circled  about  the  rep- 
resentative of  John  Bull,  with  a  suspicion  that  he  also 
must  be  a  prince  of  some  kind ;  nothing  lower  in  rank 
would  suffice.  But  he  was  so  lacking  in  humor  as  to 
let  slip  an  avowal  that  he  was  only  an  officer  in  the  bank 
of  England,  and  we,  being  now  used  to  the  company 
of  ultra-aristocrats,  looked  upon  him  somewhat  con- 
descendingly. Though  he  had  no  royal  blood  in  his 
veins,  he  finally  became  as  popular  as  any.  Even  the 
"Hawkeye  hayseed"  was  made  to  feel  that,  rank  or  no 
rank,  a  "man's  a  man  for  a'  that."  We  were  just  a 
crowd  of  grown-up  children,  accidentally  thrown  to- 
gether, and  careless  of  station,  eager  for  wholesome  play. 
And  play  we  did. 

Supper  came  first,  and  such  a  jolly  repast  has  sel- 
dom been  indulged  in.  The  "feast  of  reason  and  the 
flow  of  soul"  prolonged  the  ceremony.  We  had  tea  and 
eggs,  bread  and  cheese,  sardines  and  marmalade,  and  if 
there  was  more,  I  do  not  remember  it ;  and  "good  diges- 
tion waited  on  appetite."  Then  followed  various  games 
and  other  diversions,  the  gray-bearded  landlord  taking 
part,  until  weariness  put  a  stop  to  our  merriment.  We 
slept  upon  extremely  hard  beds  with  bearskins,  sheep- 
skins and  goatskins  over  us.  Such  great  husks  of  former 
life  seem  different  from  mere  spreads  of  cotton  or  other 
flimsy  stuff;  they  cannot  be  dissociated  from  their  one- 
time occupants,  nor  are  they  without  a  seeming  com- 
radeship. Sleep  overcame  our  tired  bodies  as  soon  as 
our  heads  touched  the  pillows;  and  though  we  had  in- 
tended to  be  up  early,  it  was  seven  o'clock  before  we 
could  shake  off  our  drowsiness. 

We  breakfasted  more  quietly  than  we  had  supped, 
our  hilarity  being  tempered  by  sundry  aches  and  pains 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  65 

from  the  previous  day's  exertions.  Spoons  were  thrown 
at  any  one  who  so  forgot  himself  as  to  mar  the  serene 
morning  calm  by  trying  to  be  funny.  But  our  appetites 
had  not  forsaken  us,  and  when  we  left  the  table  there 
was  little  left  upon  it.  We  had  come  like  an  invading 
army,  feasting  to  our  heart's  content.  Imagine  our  sur- 
prise, and  actual  dismay,  upon  learning  that  the  modest 
host  had  scarce  taxed  us  more  than  cost.  He  had  been 
most  happy  to  serve  us,  he  said.  If  anyone  had  acted 
patronizingly  in  such  a  house,  it  could  not  but  be  most 
heartily  repented  when  the  parting  came.  True,  we 
could,  no  doubt,  have  prevailed  upon  the  good  man  to 
accept  a  more  than  generous  tip,  but  human  nature  being 
generally  so  constituted  as  to  be  equally  loth  to  part  with 
unexpected  gains  as  with  the  regular  ones,  we  happened 
mostly  to  forget  it.  We  could,  besides,  have  smoothed 
out  matters  very  prettily  by  hiring  one  of  his  guides 
standing  in  eager  readiness  to  show  us  the  way;  but, 
alas,  our  sense  of  obligation  was  not  quite  acute  enough 
to  guide  the  hand  purse-ward.  It  would  also  have  been 
greatly  to  our  advantage  had  we  engaged  one  of  these 
men,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 


CHAPTER  VII 
Hairbreadth  Escapes 

CHE  jolly,  fearless  students  took  it  upon  themselves 
to  act  as  guides,  and  all  the  rest  joined  in,  equally 
brave,  looking  upon  possible  perils  with  bland  in- 
difference. The  American  and  his  British  "cousin" 
brought  up  the  rear,  conversing  on  general  topics,  but 
keeping  meanwhile  watchful  eyes  on  the  bold  Norwegians 
who  led  the  van.  First  one  jolly  student  took  the  lead,  and 
then,  when  he  became  perplexed  and  bewildered,  a  sec- 
ond succeeded  him.  For  awhile  all  went  swimmingly, 
though,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not  discern  the  least 
sign  of  a  path  where  the  student-guide  so  confidently 
led  the  way.  On  and  on  he  went,  and  follow  we  must, 
an  undulating  human  chain  being  dragged  rather  unwill- 
ingly along  over  a  terrifically  rugged  course,  and  one 
we  had  long  since  begun  to  question.  Again  there  was 
bewilderment  and  much  wavering,  and  finally  the  third 
student  assumed  the  leadership.  But  this  was  merely 
an  experiment  and  soon  came  to  an  end,  whereupon 
there  ensued  a  general  consultation,  when  it  turned  out 
that  all  were  equally  wise  concerning  the  situation,  the 
ladies  included.  With  cliffs  towering  threateningly 
above  us,  and  with  deeps  yawning  below,  we  felt  that 
we  had  been  brought  to  a  pretty  pass  indeed.  But  all 
took  equal  blame;  no  one  said,  "I  told  you  so,"  or  al- 
luded to  the  guide  left  behind. 

Our  next  move  proved  to  be  as  ill-advised  as  the 
first.     Each  following  his  own  bent,  we  were  soon  scat- 

(66) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  / 

tered  like  sheep  in  the  wilds,  groping  vaguely  about 
among  the  horrors  of  stone  and  chasm,  feeling  for  a  path, 
or  trying  at  least  to  get  our  bearings.  The  princesses 
were  as  intrepid  as  the  rest  and  quite  undismayed,  ris- 
ing splendidly  to  the  occasion.  Once,  crawling  out  of 
a  most  uninviting  hole,  scared  and  thirsty,  I  came  upon 
one  of  them  sitting  as  cool  as  you  please  on  a  stone  near 
a  mountain  brooklet,  dipping  her  little  tin  cup  into  the 
crystal  liquid,  and  refreshing  herself  as  contentedly  as 
if  she  had  been  sitting  safe  in  her  own  bower  at  home. 
Seeing  furrows  of  concern  on  my  brow,  she  spoke  lightly 
of  our  predicament  and,  offering  me  a  drink,  dispelled 
my  gloom  and  restored  my  serenity  of  aspect. 

Though  rather  widely  scattered,  we  did  maintain  a 
certain  common  direction,  falling  into  groups  and 
pleasantly  chatting  as  we  proceeded.  Such  chance  con- 
versations were  very  enjoyable.  Especially  do  I  remem- 
ber of  falling  in  with  the  mild-mannered  cousin  of 
Grieg,  who  entertained  me  with  delightful  anecdotes 
gleaned  from  much  personal  association  with  this  gentle 
genius.  I  was  so  interested  that  I  could  have  continued 
the  discourse  indefinitely,  forgetful  of  the  surroundings ; 
but  a  misstep  sent  my  companion  sprawling,  and  the 
subject  was  promptly  shelved  for  the  day.  He  arose 
with  a  bleeding  finger  and  no  little  surprise;  but  the 
hurt  was  slight,  being  quickly  hidden  with  a  bandage 
and  forgotten  with  a  laugh. 

Our  wanderings  had  led  us  to  the  edge  of  an  irre- 
gularly sloping  glacier,  on  which  some  faint  tracks  were 
discernible.  Trusting  ourselves  on  the  ice,  we  presently, 
and  with  much  unanimity  and  suddenness,  assumed  a 
sitting  posture,  though  I  myself  managed  to  retain  some- 
thing of  my  foothold.  But  I  gained  nothing  thereby, 


68 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


Drawing   by   E.   Biorn. 


On  the  glacier. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  69 

as  I  was  soon  sliding  down  that  awful  slope  toward  a 
probable  abyss  at  its  foot.  With  my  dignity  to  pre- 
serve, and  a  borrowed  camera  clutched  in  my  left  hand, 
I  manipulated  the  life-saving  umbrella  in  my  right  to 
such  effect  that  it  broke  from  a  stab  I  made  into  a  cleft 
in  the  ice,  but  which,  luckily,  arrested  my  unwilling 
course,  promising  safety  for  a  second  or  two.  All  my 
blood  seemed  to  rush  to  my  head  and  every  hair  was 
straining  to  remove  my  hat.  My  mind  was  a  blank  and 
my  eyes  staring  with  apprehension.  While  in  this  situa- 
tion, my  comrades,  almost  equally  helpless,  called  to 
me :  "Take  off  your  rubbers !"  This  advice  I  very 
meekly  followed.  With  the  aid  of  my  partly-wrecked 
umbrella,  and  rid  of  the  treacherous  rubbers,  but  cling- 
ing to  the  camera,  I  managed  to  work  my  way  back  to 
the  others,  where  I  was  supplied  with  a  stick  nobly  ten- 
dered by  one  of  the  party  who,  in  place  of  the  surren- 
4dered  implement,  took  my  umbrella,  he  being  the  better 
shod. 

The  Englishman  was  holding  on  for  dear  life  to 
his  favorite  princess,  whom  he  had  saved  from  despair 
by  raising  to  her  feet  and  holding  her  upright  by  a  firm 
grasp  of  the  hand,  meantime  steadying  himself  securely 
by  leaning  heavily  on  his  iron-tipped  staff.  On  passing 
me,  his  lady  in  charge  gripped  my  hand  heartily  and 
helpfully,  offering  to  hold  on,  but  this  only  upset  my 
painfully  acquired  equilibrium,  and  I  was  obliged,  much 
against  my  will  to  cry  out  that  she  was  disturbing  my 
balance,  and  to  ask  her  to  let  go  immediately,  lest  I  fall. 

The  crossing  proved  not  so  serious  as  we  had 
feared,  for  all  we  had  to  do  when  we  felt  ourselves  go- 
ing was  to  drop  into  a  sitting  posture  and  the  added 
surface  thus  presented  by  our  bodies  to  the  glacier  hin- 


7O  WALKING   TfclPS    IN    NORWAY 

tiered  our  sliding.  We  edged  warily,  inch  by  inch,  over 
the  dreary,  furrowed  zone,  but  despite  our  caution,  there 
were  many  ludicrous  antics  unwillingly  performed,  and 
many  remarkable  poses  assumed.  We  enjoyed  nearly 
a  mile  of  this  distracting,  torturing  pilgrimage,  and  when 
finally  across  looked  around  in  panting  dismay  like  fear- 
stricken  horses  craning  back  their  necks  to  regard  with 
wide-eyed  concern  a  danger  barely  escaped. 

The  passage  safely  accomplished,  we  did  not  tarry, 
nor  did  the  outlook  bring  cheer,  but,  descrying  a  path, 
we  followed  it  doggedly,  and,  spying  a  cairn,  we  knew 
at  last,  that  we  had  won.  With  more  of  these  rude 
signs  on  the  way  we  could  have  been  spared  much  dif- 
ficulty in  making  our  advance.  Lives  have  beeri  lost  in 
the  wilds  for  the  lack  of  these  easily  erected,  silent,  but 
trustworthy,  guides. 

With  an  eye  on  this  cairn  we  searched  till  there  ap- 
peared another,  and  then  another,  and  so  continuing  wet 
stuck  unerringly  to  the  course  which  they  marked,  until 
at  last  we  found  ourselves  under  Galdh0piggen's  very 
nose.  The  "Juvas-hut"  was  built  on  a  level  stretch  of 
ground  here,  two  hours'  distance  from  the  very  crown 
of  Norway's  highest  mountain,  to  provide  entertainment 
for  tourists  and  weary  stragglers  such  as  we. 

The  daughter  of  the  famous  mountain  guide,  Knut 
Vole,  the  proprietor,  received  us  at  the  door  and  bade 
us  welcome,  assigning  to  all  their  respective  rooms  and 
sleeping  places.  We  bunked  in  close  proximity  to  one 
another,  for  the  room  was  sorely  limited  and  all  the 
guests  must  needs  be  housed.  The  ladies  were  secluded 
aloft,  and  whether  they  had  greater  comfort  and  con- 
venience than  we,  it  behooves  us  not  to  know.  They 
were  conducted  to  their  separate  sleeping  alcoves  by 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


means  of  a  rude  stairway  raised  aloft  outside  and  com- 
municating' by  a  common  outer  door  with  the  nests 
within.  Having  fixed  up  a  bit  —  those  from  above  ap- 
peared as  transfigured  —  all  met  below  in  the  vast  com- 
mon room  which  served  as  guest  and  living  room,  dining 
and  smoking  room.  Since  we  had  come  too  late  for 
dinner  and  too  early  for  sup- 
per, both  were  combined  in  a 
generous  meal  partaking  of  the 
nature  of  each. 

Safely  housed  and  some- 
what rested,  secure  in  our 
places  before  a  festal  board, 
we  felt  that  we  could  afford 
to  assume  indifference  and 
prate  of  our  foolish  achieve- 
ment before  the  assembled 
guests.  But  to  our  recital 
elicited  no  responsive  smile. 
Knut  Vole  had  lived  too  long 
and  seen  too  much  of  moun- 
taineering to  look  lightly  on 
such  an  escapade.  He  warned 
us  never  again  to  repeat  it,  for 

another  such  reckless  excursion  might  prove  to  be  our 
last.  Others  had  furnished  warning  examples.  Being 
not  unwilling  to  change  the  subject,  we  attacked  the 
wholesome  viands  with  appetites  unaffected  by  the  perils 
we  had  escaped,  and  our  host  smiled  upon  us  again.  Old 
Knut  took  every  one  to  his  bosom,  without  partiality, 
making  one  and  all  feel  that  they  had  indeed  found  .a 
haven  of  refuge  in  this  eerie  spot  on  the  very  outskirts 
of  the  habitable  world. 


Drawing    by    E.    Biorn. 

Juvas-hut. 


72  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

Though  it  was  yet  midsummer,  the  sighing  night 
wind  blew  cold  without,  penetrating  unseen  crevices 
between  the  stout  logs  of  the  crudely  built  dwelling. 
There  was  a  stove,  but  the  fire  flickered  rather  low, 
wood  not  being  any  too  plentiful  and  only  with  great 
difficulty  transported  to  these  high  altitudes,  as  had  been 
also  the  material  for  the  hut.  There  was  no  road  for 
wheeled  vehicles,  and  all  the  necessary  provisions  and 
camp  paraphernalia  were  borne  hither  on  horse-back, 
or  shouldered  by  guides  or  others.  No  horses  or  cows 
were  kept,  and  save  in  this  one  lone  human  habitation 
there  was  no  life  visible.  All  was  silence  except  for  the 
warring  winds  and  the  reverberating  boom  of  cracking 
glaciers.  Near  the  hut  is  a  lake,  ice-bound  except  when 
the  warmth  of  summer  breaks  its  bonds  and  sends  the 
huge  crystal  cakes  from  a  neighboring  glacier  plunging 
into  its  bosom. 

While  night  and  darkness  prevailed  without,  a  well 
burnished  lamp  shed  a  cheery  luster  within  our  four- 
cornered  cage,  inviting  us  to  be  merry.  We  took  to 
imitating  the  songs  of  birds  and  the  cries  of  various 
animals.  A  professor  from  Holland  roared  like  a  lion, 
frightening  the  owls,  cats,  dogs  and  monkeys  into  fearful 
silence.  The  American  eagle  ceased  screaming  and 
fluttered  silently  into  a  corner,  while  the  Norwegian  bear, 
shamed  in  his  whining,  drew  tremblingly  into  a  sitting 
posture  behind  the  stove.  John  Bull's  frenzied  bellowing 
died  into  a  moan  as  he  sought  refuge  behind  his  princess, 
who  sat  silent  like  an  awe-stricken  bird.  The  roaring 
ended  in  long-drawn  guttural  growls,  upon  which  gay 
shouts  of  laughter  and  loud  acclaim  burst  forth,  making 
the  very  rafters  ring.  The  Hollander,  no  longer  a  lion, 
sat  wreathed  in  smiles.  A  German  doctor  nearly  com- 


WALKING  TRIPS   IN    NORWAY  73 

mitted  murder  on  a  musical  classic  loved  by  us  all,  per- 
petrating this  crime  by  means  of  a  cracked  old  violin, 
which  he  had  fished  out  of  a  nook  in  the  wall.  Two 
ladies  resuscitated  the  theme  in  song,  silencing  the  hor- 
rid riddle  and  thus  saving  the  day.  By  unanimous  con- 
sent and  combined  effort,  the  Britisher  was  dragged 
forth  from  his  retreat  to  lead  in  the  song  known  as 
"The  Three  Blind  Mice."  The  sixteen  travelers  present 
joined  in  with  all  the  force  of  their  lungs.  The  con- 
ductor bawled  forth  as  with  a  voice  of  ten,  setting  fair 
example,  and  wielded  his  baton  (poker)  in  an  agony  of 
contortion,  with  danger  to  all.  If  the  sleeping  hills  re- 
mained yet  unmoved,  the  fault  was  not  ours,  for  to  dis- 
turb them  we  had  indeed  done  our  very  best. 

My  window  revealed  the  shadowy  spectre  of  the 
mighty  summit  clothed  as  with  a  shroud,  which  reached 
out  as  I  dozed  away,  hovering  over  me  as  a  nightmare 
through  the  hours  of  miserable,  troubled  sleep.  I  arose 
unrefreshed  to  prepare  for  our  great  climb,  but  as  the 
sun  remained  hidden,  the  fog  budging  not  the  slightest, 
we  were  pleased  to  postpone  our  journey  till  another  day. 
We  shook  off  our  disappointment,  made  merry  again, 
and  in  the  joy  of  living  I  forgot  the  listlessness  and  soul- 
weariness  induced  by  my  ugly  dream  phantasy  and 
unsound  sleep.  We  sang  and  played  the  livelong  day, 
only  I  must  not  forget  to  record  our  great  slide,  with  our 
own  Knut  acting  as  master  of  ceremonies. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Mountain  Sport  and  a  Great  Climb 

CO  pass  time  and  provide  amusement  during  such 
awkward  waits  our  host  had  caused  several  sleds 
to  be  transported  from  below,  which  he  now 
brought  forward  for  the  use  of  those  pleasurably  in- 
clined. We  followed  at  his  heels  in  a  body,  for  all 
wished  to  share  in  this  excellent  sport.  Seeking  out  one 
of  the  smoothest  drifts  and  climbing  up  its  immaculate 
bosom  for  the  best  part  of  a  mile,  Knut  bade  me  sit 
astride  his  "Boomerang,"  and  under  his  experienced 
guidance  I  was  given  my  first  meteor-like  glide  in  the 
fields  of  perpetual  snow.  Later  I  was  invited  to  be  one 
of  several  on  a  sled  steered  by  a  less  experienced  man, 
with  the  result  that  we  capsized,  and  skirts  and  coat- 
tails,  boots  and  shoes,  hands  and  feet  were  indiscrimin- 
ately mingled.  Some  bumped  noses,  some  rolled  over  and 
over,  while  others  slid,  rocket-like,  alarmingly  far,  play- 
ing sad  havoc  with  their  clothing  and  getting  a  few 
smart  bumps.  But  as  long  as  no  one  was  seriously  hurt, 
no  one  cared,  and  though  many  looked  considerably 
rumpled,  all  decided  that  it  had  been  glorious  fun,  and 
forthwith  voted  Knut  their  best  and  warmest  thanks. 

The  fun-makers'  convention  took  up  its  delibera- 
tions immediately  after  supper,  but  broke  up  earlier  than 
on  the  preceding  evening,  for  there  was  that  in  the  air 
denoting  hunger  for  change.  The  second  night  was 
short  and  dreamless,  and  all  were  up,  figuratively  speak- 
ing, with  the  lark,  to  watch  for  sunbeams  and  an  un- 

(74) 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  75 

clouded  sky.  Though  it  might  have  looked  more  prom- 
ising, the  prospect  was  not  discouraging,  and  Knut  fi- 
nally decided  that  we  might  attempt  the  great  climb. 

All  were  told  to  make  careful  preparations,  espe- 
cially as  to  foot-gear.  My  rubbers  were  promptly  ruled 
out,  and  as  I  had  no  other  shoes  than  the  calf-skin  pair 
I  was  wearing,  they  were  suffered  to  remain,  and  I 
quickly  made  ready.  I  yearned  for  my  umbrella  but 
dared  not  take  it  for  fear  of  the  sneers  of  these  judges 
of  costume.  But  my  ulster  I  would  have,  even  though 
kind-hearted  Knut  looked  me  over  with  a  half-scornful, 
pitying  expression  in  his  eyes.  With  camera  in  one 
hand  and  a  rude  stick  in  the  other,  I  shuffled  along  with 
the  rest,  as  light-hearted  and  cheerful  as  they,  though 
admittedly,  not  quite  up  to  their  standard  in  the  matter 
of  clothes.  Although  each  had  felt  called  upon  to  re- 
mark upon  the  correctness  of  my  outfit,  I  suffered  it  with 
easy  patience,  discerning  the  real  kindness  beneath  it  all. 
Some  were  actually  concerned  for  my  welfare.  Others 
frankly  confessed  they  thought  me  courageous  for  dis- 
daining to  turn  back  because  of  a  trifle,  in  view  of  the 
great  things  at  stake. 

Arrived  at  the  treacherous  drifts  about  the  summit, 
Knut  tied  us  together  with  a  rope,  to  hinder  individual 
gliding  or  sliding,  or  possible  disappearances  through 
bottomless  clefts.  We  were  told  to  walk  singly,  at  a  cer- 
tain distance  from  one  another,  to  prevent  too  much 
strain  on  any  portion  of  the  line  in  case  of  a  drop.  But 
he  was  not  obeyed  in  this,  in  the  least,  the  rope  dropping 
slack  and  coming  taut  only  when  Knut'  scowled  anxiously 
backwards  over  the  truant  row.  Each  one  felt  immune 
from  a  fall,  for  no  danger  seemed  imminent,  and  human 
nature  asserted  itself,  careless  as  ever,  scouting  caution 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


In  the  heights. 


Dratving    by    E.    Biorn. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  77 

when  all  went  so  well.  But  when  somebody's  foot  found 
no  bottom  and  the  body  came  tumbling  after,  there  was 
a  scramble  for  places,  and  henceforth  Knut's  advice  was 
better  heeded. 

Without  warning,  our  guide  woke  the  echoes  with 
an  ear-piercing  cry.  We  stood  stock-still  in  our  tracks, 
listening  in  awed  wonder  to  the  commotion  of  sound 
thus  set  raging  between  the  peaks.  When  Knut  shouted 
"Denmark,"  with  all  the  power  of  his  lungs,  it  was 
quickly  repeated  quite  •  correctly,  coming  back  more 
tardily  after  a  while  and  in  fainter  accents,  and  finally 
becoming  almost  inaudible,  as  if  re-echoed  from  a  vast 
distance.  When  all  shouted  together  the  pandemonium 
let  loose  was  so  great  that  I  feared  for  the  stability  of 
Bj0rnstjerne  Bj^rnson's  features,  especially  the  nose, 
which  Nature  had  pictured  in  a  frowning  rock  forma- 
tion on  our  left. 

Our  path  did  not  always  lead  over  comfortable  beds 
of  snow,  but  at  times  over  stone  piles  and  slippery  ice- 
crusts,  and  finally  up  a  towering  ridge  with  a  thin 
shoulder  resembling  a  razor-backed  hog.  We  had  to  cut 
notches  in  its  very  spine  to  gain  foothold,  and  as  ice  had 
formed  here,  danger  lurked  at  every  step.  The  wind 
blew  fiercely,  threatening  to  lift  us  off  our  feet,  and 
though  the  ulster  was  some  protection,  it  did  not  lessen 
its  impact,  and  I  seemed  in  danger  of  sailing  off  into 
space,  with  a  generous  following  in  train.  The  ice-hewn 
steps  stood  rather  far  apart,  and  in  striving  to  attain 
them  we  had  to  hitch  carefully  along,  respectful  of  one 
another's  motions,  like  Siamese  twins  several  times  mul- 
tiplied. I  was  in  a  state  of  much  concern  lest  by  some 
awkward  mischance  I  should  fall,  thus  possibly  precipi- 
tating the  whole  string  to  headlong  destruction.  We 


78  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

pushed  rocks,  unfeelingly,  into  chasms  below,  trying  thus 
to  gauge  the  depths,  and  listening  intently  to  the  cruel 
sounds  proclaiming  them  shattered  to  the  core.  For 
fear  of  taking  similar  plunges  ourselves  we  became  extra 
cautious,  nor  did  we  further  disturb  the  peace  of  the 
silent  stones. 

Having  ascended  the  furrowed  neck  of  the  razor- 
back  we  soon  found  ourselves  entering  upon  the  up- 
turned snout  constituting  the  top,  and  forthwith  was  let 
loose  a  most  unmusical  volley  of  sounds  intended  as 
cheers.  We  quickly  shed  our  harness  and  each  made 
haste  to  be  the  first  to  plant  foot  on  the  very  pinnacle. 
Right  here  Knut  had  erected  a  rude  shelter  of  boards, 
borne  thither  on  his  back  through  a  period  of  strenuous 
effort  lasting  for  weeks.  To  our  horror  we  became  en- 
veloped in  a  cloud,  and  to  provide  cheer  for  such  a  con- 
tingency our  host  had  brought  up  a  tiny  little  stove,  in 
which  flames  were  soon  dancing  merrily,  and  the  de- 
licious aroma  of  boiling  coffee  came  temptingly  to  tickle 
our  fog-dampened  noses.  We  stuck  our  cards  into  the 
walls  and  ceiling  where  there  were  thousands  before,  all 
new-comers  wishing  thus  to  perpetuate  the  fame  of  their 
having  attained  the  highest  spot  in  northern  Europe. 
Huddled  upon  low  benches  set  close  to  the  wall,  all  had 
seats,  and  though  we  sat  exceedingly  close,  the  discom- 
fort was  minded  by  none,  weightier  matters  by  far  claim- 
ing our  attention.  Knut  was  preparing  to  serve  coffee ! 
We  waited  each  for  our  share  with,  burning  impatience, 
the  novelty  of  the  situation  having  completely  upset  our 
poise.  All  that  mattered  just  then  was  that  we  by  no 
manner  of  chance  should  allow  ourselves  to  be  over- 
looked in  the  distribution  of  cups.  A  few  minutes  be- 
fore, such  indulgence  had  not  entered  our  thought,  but, 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  79 

once  given  the  hint,  existence  seemed  dreary  without  it. 
We  burned  our  lips  and  scalded  our  tongues  with  the 
fiery  black  stuff,  but  having  got  what  we  wanted,  no  one 
cried  out.  Knut  sat  in  our  midst,  ladling  out  the  prec- 
ious drops  in  smoking  portions  right  and  left,  thus  be- 
coming enveloped  in  a  mantle  of  steam  which  set  off  his 
figure  in  fine  fashion.  Seeing  him  thus  picturesquely  en- 
sconced, it  occured  to  one  brighter  than  the  rest  to  beg 
for  a  tale  of  the  mountains.  This  reminded  some  of 
what  they  had  long  wanted  to  hear,  viz :  The  Story  of 
His  Great  Adventure.  He  would  have  fled,  but  being 
completely  circled  about,  he  realized  the  futility  of  the 
attempt.  Reinforced  by  his  pipe  and  the  cheerful  little 
blaze,  he  beamed  benevolently  about,  and  the  whole 
group  and  its  surroundings  presented  a  scene  not  soon 
to  be  forgotten. 

"I  was  alone  with  a  very  green  tourist  one  day  in 
these  wilds,"  he  began,  "when  there  happened  what  for 
a  time  I  thought  surely  would  end  all  my  trips,  here  and 
elsewhere,  forever.  We  had  roped  ourselves  together 
safely  enough,  but  as  if  fated  for  trouble  I  had  let 
caution  take  wings,  forgetting  to  be  watchful  of  the  per- 
son I  had  in  my  charge.  For  two  to  walk  with  a  slack 
rope  among  these  tricky  crevices,  so  carefully  covered, 
is  to  court  danger  with  a  vengeance;  with  my  attention 
called  elsewhere,  I  had  not  noticed  that  my  companion, 
contrary  to  instructions,  hung  hard  on  my  heels,  dragging 
the  loop  in  the  snow.  Of  a  sudden  the  crust  gave  way 
beneath  me  and  an  awful  black  abyss  opened  and  swal- 
lowed me  up.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  fall,  which  I  did ; 
but  luckily  for  me  and  the  green-horn  above,  my  feet  in- 
stinctively casting  about,  struck  a  ledge  about  twenty 
feet  down.  This  arrested  my  progress,  saving  me  also 


8o  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

from  dragging  down  my  companion,  who,  if  he  had  but 
kept  to  his  place,  would  have  been  secure,  at  the  same 
time  providing  a  stay  for  me.  Being  still  in  the  pos- 
session of  my  wits,  I  clung  where  I  had  landed,  thank- 
ful for  this  much,  at  least.  But  the  ledge  was  so  nar- 
row I  could  scarce  keep  my  balance ;  and  imagine  my 
horror  when  the  blockhead  above  took  to  pulling  and 
jerking,  threatening  to  tear  me  off  my  perch.  Had  he 
succeeded  in  this,  we  would  both  have  been  plunged 
headlong  into  a  bottomless  cleft.  Failing  in  his  well- 
meant  but  foolish  effort  to  dislodge  me  and  so  spill  his 
own  life  as  well  as  mine,  he  desisted,  and  the  rope  grow- 
ing slack  indicated  his  departure  in  quest  of  aid.  Being 
now  rid  of  the  greatest  danger,  I  examined  my  situa- 
tion as  carefully  as  I  could.  As  scarcely  any  light  pene- 
trated from  above,  I  was  obliged  to  grope  about  me  with 
my  hands  to  discover,  if  possible,  some  means  of  es- 
cape from  my  fearful  dilemma.  I  found  there  was  ice 
in  plenty  to  support  my  weight,  could  I  but  gain  foot- 
hold ;  but  there  were  no  other  accommodating  ledges, 
and  I  soon  saw  that  to  escape  there  was  no  royal  road 
open,  and  that  I  must  make  one.  At  this  juncture  I  re- 
membered the  ice-axe  strapped  to  my  back,  and  I  tingled 
all  over  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  possible  deliverance. 
I  quickly  began  to  chop  steps  in  the  ice,  but  found  it 
exceedingly  slow  work  and  fearfully  dangerous,  on  ac- 
count of  my  cramped  position  and  frequent  slipping. 
Because  of  the  shower  of  fine  particles  of  ice  I  was  some- 
times on  the  point  of  losing  hold  of  my  axe-handle,  when 
my  heart  would  almost  stop  beating  in  fearful  appre- 
hension of  results,  should  I  drop  it.  After  several  hours 
of  steady  chopping,  I  had  ascended  into  the  light,  but 
when  congratulating  myself  at  last  on  assured  safety  and 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  8l 

speedy  relief,  there  occurred  the  most  awful  mischance 
of  all ;  a  huge  cake  of  solid  snow  from  above,  becoming 
loosened,  plunged  down  upon  me.  It  gripped  me  in  an 
embrace  as  of  death,  but  by  a  miracle  my  head  crashed 
through,  though  it  pinioned  my  body  so  close  to  the  icy 
wall  in  brushing  past  that  it  knocked  all  the  breath  out 
of  it,  leaving  me  swaying  in  a  dizzy  half-stupor  and 
on  the  verge  of  falling.  But  my  end  had  not  come.  I 
recovered  my  breath  and  ceased  to  see  stars.  How 
glorious  it  was  again  to  be  able  to  breathe,  and  to  see ! 
How  thankful  I  was  that  I  had  not  lost  my  balance !  To 
describe  my  happiness  when  at  last  I  climbed  out  is  be- 
yond me.  Words  are  not  for  such  uses.  Let  each  one 
imagine  it.  Thanks  to  my  good  health  I  quickly  recov- 
ered from  the  shock,  found  my  way  home  quite  alone,  no 
rescuers  coming  to  my  aid,  and  slept  quietly  and  un- 
disturbedly that  night  as  always  before." 

"The  summit  is  clear,"  some  one  sang  out,  and  im- 
mediately there  issued  forth  an  eager,  curious  throng,  and 
silence  reigned  supreme  in  the  hut.  The  old  sun  of 
Noah,  brightly  smiling  as  ever,  came  back  to  its  haunts 
today  as  of  yore,  pushing  the  clouds  playfully  apart, 
lovingly  showering  its  gold  on  the  crown  of  the  vener- 
able mount,  which,  glistening  back,  spoke  of  mutual  en- 
dearments, ancient  of  origin,  harking  back  to  times  before 
the  flood.  We  felt  ourselves  uncomfortably  new,  quite 
excruciatingly  up  to  date. 

Was  the  view  worth  half  a  crown  as  an  investment  ? 
It  had  cost  us  more  than  that.  Who  can  figure  out  the 
value  of  esthetical  raptures  by  mathematical  rule?  Per- 
haps our  guide  could,  but  to  me  it  appeared  that  life's 
highest  rewards  have  no  intrinsic  value,  and  that  all  our 
material  strivings  are  but  means  to  an  end.  We  had 
6 


82 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  83 

now  arrived,  as  it  were,  at  a  finish.  As  with  music,  for 
example,  and  the  pure  and  noble  in  art,  here  was  a 
glimpse  as  of  heaven,  a  foretaste  of  the  beyond.  Was  it 
worth  while?  The  rapt  features  of  my  companions,  all 
joyfully  tense  as  if  in  earnest  worship,  as  well  as  the 
rapturous  promptings  of  my  own  soul,  answered  loudly, 
Yes.  The  view  was  wide  and  wonderfully  varied,  and 
—  the  scene  of  such  sublimity  that  I  herewith  promise  not 
to  try  to  describe  it,  and  will  say  in  the  language  of 
Knut  Vole,  "Words  are  not  for  such  uses."  Let  those 
hungering  for  soul  exaltation  seek  out  such  spots  for 
themselves ;  the  messages  received  here  are  private,  un- 
translatable, and  not  deliverable  through  carriers  or  in- 
terpreters. 

As  I  turned  away  from  the  glorious  scene,  there 
came  to  my  mind  that  beautiful  psalm  of  Brorson,  made 
famous  by  Grieg : 

"Behold  the  mighty  white  array, 
Like   snow   clad  mountains   far  away." 


CHAPTER  IX 
Astray  in  the  Mountains 

*J  •  LMOST  any  agreeable  experience  ends,  finally, 
f*m  with  more  or  less  of  disillusionment.  After  the 
J  I  rapture  of  the  moment  is  over,  and  our  exalta- 
tion has  subsided,  we  grope  around  in  whimsical  help- 
lessness, feeling  rather  forlorn  and  undone.  Though  we 
have  become  saner,  we  feel  emptier,  and  sorry  we've 
grown  so  wise.  We  would  rather  go  back,  but  the  reac- 
tion has  come  and  we  must  remain  satisfied  with  mere 
every-day  thoughts  and  thrills.  Our  very  philosophy 
appears  to  have  undergone  a  change,  but  whether  we  ac- 
tually have  clearer  vision  in  this  sober  second  state  than 
in  the  other,  is  an  open  question,  for  it  soon  passes,  while 
the  glory  of  the  first  experience  always  remains  with  us. 

Ugh !  we  hated  to  put  on  the  old  harness  again  and 
traverse  that  same  horrid  path  of  which  we  had  had  so 
entirely  enough,  even  though  it  did  look  interesting  once. 
Had  it  only  been  something  new !  But  no ;  Knut  had  no 
other  road  laid  out,  and  he  brusquely  bade  us  come, 
seemingly  unaware  of  our  slackened  zeal  and  our  de- 
pressed spirits.  And  we  came,  and  very  promptly  too ; 
for,  before  we  were  well  aware  of  it,  we  were  sailing  on 
our  backs  down  a  steep  incline  overlaid  with  soft  snow, 
finding  ourselves  suddenly  transferred  to  the  base  all  out 
of  kelter,  and  quite  terribly  shocked,  but  nevertheless 
still  linked  together  and  unhurt. 

There  was  a  thunderstorm  of  objurgations  imminent, 
but  Knut's  broad  smile  dissipated  it,  his  cheeriness  com- 

(84) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  85 

municating  itself  gradually  also  to  the  many  frigid 
countenances  surrounding  him,  all  most  determinedly 
prepared  for  anything  but  a  thaw.  But  we  all  burst  out 
in  a  roar  of  laughter  in  spite  of  ourselves,  and  this  being 
the  most  effective  of  all  modes  of  mirth,  instantly  our 
spirits  rose  to  par  again.  Knut,  the  old  fox,  had  divined 
our  predicament  and,  having  had  much  experience,  knew 
how  to  rally  drooping  spirits,  though  adopting  rather 
heroic  measures  in  accomplishing  his  design.  There  was 
much  chatter,  Knut  beamed  upon  us  like  a  sun,  and  be- 
fore another  hour  had  passed  we  viewed  again  the  Juvas 
hut;  and  lo !  sleds  lay  at  our  feet  as  if  charmed  there, 
inviting  us  to  settle  upon  their  backs  and  slide  the  best 
part  of  the  remaining  distance,  gravitation  propelling  us 
downwards  in  the  exact  direction  it  pleased  us  to  point. 
We  mortals  seem  to  be  so  constituted  that  we  must 
continually  have  something  pleasant  to  look  forward  to, 
otherwise  existence  were  but  a  sorry  boon.  No  sooner 
had  the  flurry  from  the  unexpected  slide  subsided  ere  our 
busy  minds  prodded  us  into  anxiety  as  to  the  next  like- 
liest good  thing  making  ready  for  our  pleasure.  Some 
one  suggested  that  it  might  be  dinner.  It  was.  The 
mere  thought  of  it  made  us  crave  for  it  so  fervently  that 
upon  coming  into  actual  possession  it  seemed  too  good  to 
be  true  and  more  than  one  reminded  himself  of  Banquo's 
feast,  half  expecting  some  giant  Jotul  to  appear  to  snatch 
away  the  precious  portions  from  beneath  our  very  noses. 
The  rare,  peculiar  surroundings,  confused  the  senses, 
causing  them  to  grope  rather  helplessly  about,  undeter- 
mined as  to  the  real  and  unreal.  But  with  something 
solid  between  our  teeth,  "flad-brod,"  (flat-bread)  for  in- 
stance, hallucinations  and  all  their  brood  and  kindred 
took  flight,  leaving  us  serene,  sane  and  satisfied.  Nothing 


86  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

like  a  large,  wholesome  Norwegian  meal  to  restore  dis- 
turbed functions ;  —  but  there  are  diverse  ways  of  in- 
dulging. One  strong,  healthy  youth,  chaperoned  by  a 
doting  mother,  devoured  a  dozen  fishballs ! 

When  one  is  not  rich  and  is  blessed  with  an  in- 
satiable desire  for  travel,  he  sometimes  secretly  sighs  for 
a  respite  from  his  appetite-ridden  stomach ;  and  though 
knowing  it  a  wrong  desire  he  is  tempted  to  wish  he  could 
dispense  with  and  forget  that  organ  till  he  gets  past  all 
hotels  and  back  to  the  land,  where  he  may  bake  his  own 
bread  and  fry  his  own  fish  witout  paying  a  high  premium 
for  every  ounce  swallowed.  Knut  was  not  unreasonable, 
however,  and  though  our  wallets  were  not  inconsiderably 
lightened  our  spirits  had  risen  in  similar  degree,  enabling 
us  to  fare  forth  joyous  and  happy,  as  we  had  come. 

To  part  with  good  companions  is  always  a  wrench ; 
and  to  me  it  is  often  real  pain.  Never  again,  I  feared, 
should  I  meet  the  jolly  students,  the  Danes,  the  Hol- 
lander, the  German,  the  good  Englishman,  the  lady  and 
her  son,  that  fine  schoolmaster  and  his  wife,  the 
princesses  —  but  I  anticipate.  The  princesses  happened 
to  take  my  particular  road,  Elvesater  being  my  destina- 
tion ;  thither  they  were  also  bound.  We  made  for  it 
without  a  guide,  my  fair  companions  feeling,  no  doubt, 
greatly  reassured  by  a  certain  masculine  presence ;  but 
he  of  the  presence,  viz.,  myself,  had  less  assurance,  be- 
ing in  reality,  far  more  dependent  on  their  company  than 
they  on  mine.  I  had  grown  up  midst  the  cornfields ;  they 
among  the  hills ;  then  why  should  they  not  be  the  more 
fit  to  take  the  lead? 

I  walked  on  very  boldly  in  advance,  for  awhile,  but 
soon  grew  undecided  as  to  which  way  to  go.  There  were 
different  opinions  between  us  regarding  the  route.  After 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  87 

some  hesitation  I  again  plunged  ahead ;  meanwhile  the 
princesses  sat  down  on  a  stone  to  rest.  Imagine  my 
consternation  upon  seeing  them,  when  well  beyond  shout- 
ing distance.,  scrambling  to  their  feet  and  tripping 
blithely  off  in  a  direction  of  their  own.  I  feared  I  had 
seen  the  last  of  the  princesses.  They  did  not  so  much 
as  wave  a  handkerchief,  and  I  turned  with  much  con- 
cern and  loneliness  to  pick  a  path  of  my  own.  I  had  let 
myself  loose  on  the  slopes  of  Galdh0piggen,  Norway's 
highest  mountain,  and  nobody  objected  or  cared. 

I  was  so  pre-occupied  with  the  unexpected  turn  of 
events  that  I  stumbled,  unwittingly,  quite  out  of  my 
course  and  found  myself  facing  —  a  view  so  sublimely 
grand  that  nothing  mattered  else  than  to  garner  it 
quickly,  as  best  I  might  into  the  inmost  reaches  of  soul 
and  inner  vision,  there  to  be  imprinted  and  retained  for 
ever.  One  particular  mount  had  a  cloud  wrapped  around 
its  summit,  and  when  the  hoary-headed  top  showed 
through,  the  shifting  kaledioscopic  effect  suggested  the 
form  of  a  lithe,  furry  cat  twisting  itself  affectionately 
around  the  furrowed  neck  of  some  old  grandpa  or 
grandma.  At  times  there  seemed  to  be  hesitancy,  and 
again  surprisingly  quick  motion,  precisely  as  when  young 
puss  strokes  an  ear,  dashes  at  a  stray  hair  or  comports 
herself  over-audaciously  in  a  fine  frenzy  of  feline  fool- 
ishness. At  times  it  would  resolve  itself  into  a  mighty 
serpent  coiling  sinuously  above  the  shoulders  of  its  mis- 
tress, hiding  its  huge  head  in  her  billowy  masses  of  hair 
and  running  its  forked  tongue  out  threateningly  when 
the  freakish  wind  disturbed  the  flowing  tresses,  its  pil- 
low. When  comparatively  near  such  vapor-caps,  or 
mountain-scarfs,  they  look  awe-inspiring  and  even  ter- 
rifying, and  one's  first  impulse  is  to  turn  about  and  take 


88  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

inglorious  flight.  They  reach  out  noiselessly  and  fast 
and  speak  with  the  voiceless,  dreadful  accent  of  the  ice- 
berg:—  "I  shall  get  you  any  way,  no  use  to  fly." 

In  the  mountains  I  saw  distant  deeps  or  depressions 
which  the  sun  had  scarcely  ever  looked  upon ;  and  be- 
tween their  walls  roared  cataracts,  showing  white,  their 
shifting  substance  remaining  stationary,  seemingly,  to 
the  eye.  The  mountains  rose  brown  and  irregular,  and 
appeared  bare  save  for  some  crouching  objects  here  and 
there  which  I  took  to  be  stunted  growths,  or  queer- 
shaped  boulders.  Some  dark  shapes  flitted  instan- 
taneously up  and  down  their  sides,  and  gazing  aloft  I 
beheld  their  very  antithesis  in  brilliant  bits  of  vapor  veil- 
ing the  sun  and  looking  no  more  real  than  their  unsub- 
stantial shadows.  I  could  just  get  a  glimpse  of  a  dis- 
tant valley  where  there  were  human  habitations,  but  it 
appeared  so  diminutive  that  I  should  have  scorned  to 
acknowledge  such  a  crevice  for  my  home,  and  imagined, 
or  made  believe,  that  I  was  brother  to  the  big  hills  and 
waterfalls  and  somewhat  similar  in  stature,  strength  and 
aspect.  But  the  illusion  vanished  when  I  essayed  to  step 
across  a  miniature  chasm ;  and  though  still  literally 
among  clouds  I  dropped  away  from  them  very  quickly, 
as  it  were,  when  the  cruel  truth  came  back  to  me,  re- 
minding me  that  I  was  but  an  atom  and  a  lost  one  at 
that. 

While  I  stood  thus  bewildered,  I  suddenly  remem- 
bered that  I  had  been  brought  up  on  the  prairie,  and 
called  to  mind  the  Indians  I  had  so  often  seen.  I  be- 
thought myself  of  their  lore,  and  gradually  there  crept 
upon  me  great  assurance,  wariness  and  cunning.  It  was 
a  brave's  telepathic  call,  no  doubt,  to  his  adopted  brother 
groping  about  in  distress  amid  strange  surroundings,  far 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  89 

away  from  the  plains  and  corn-fields.  I  had  been  told 
that  there  remained  signs  of  an  old  path  somewhere,  and 
this  I  now  confidently  set  out  to  find. 

By  looking  too  intently  at  a  distant  object  it  becomes 
elusive  and  finally  disappears,  but  by  letting  the  eye  rove 
carelessly  around  in  its  vicinity  it  is  made  to  appear,  be- 
ing caught  unawares  through  a  casual  glimpse.  Thus 
I  came  upon  the  path  and,  faint  though  it  was,  its  course 
could  still  be  traced  by  a  wary  eye.  Sometimes  I  would 
step  upon  the  smoothed  face  of  a  rock  showing  evidence 
of  the  friction  of  other  feet;  but  the  new  grass  or  fresh 
layer  of  moss  had  a  trick  of  spiriting  my  path  away,  and 
I  repeatedly  found  myself  bewildered  and  lost.  Al- 
though I  had  acquired  the  general  sense  of  direction  it 
helped  me  little,  for  there  were  mighty  boulders  to  avoid, 
ravines  to  climb  out  of,  bogs  to  shun,  chasms  to  beware 
of,  and  other  similar  obstructions,  so  that  by  the  time  I 
recovered  my  general  direction  and  could  make  use  of 
the  old  landmarks,  I  had  shown  equal  favor  to  all  the 
thirty-two  points  of  the  compass.  Eventually  I  suppose 
this  would  have  landed  me  at  my  hotel,  say  in  a  fort- 
night or  so,  but  as  this  was  not  soon  enough,  I  trusted 
to  my  Indian-like  sagacity,  now  rapidly  developing,  in 
ferreting  out  the  disappearing  track.  How  utterly  sel- 
fish of  those  who  had  gone  in  advance,  I  thought,  not  to 
throw  out  some  reminder  as  to  the  way  of  their  going. 
I  reckoned  up  their  shortcomings,  but  overlooked  my 
own,  which  were  precisely  similar  to  theirs,  I  being  only 
concerned  for  myself,  and  never  having  once  thought  of 
my  successors  in  distress  till  now  when  I  write.  I  would 
have  subscribed  liberally  to  a  signpost  fund  on  that  day 
of  my  dire  need,  but  the  next  would  have  found  me 
rather  unresponsive  to  any  such  call  upon  my  purse. 


gO  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

"Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  How  aptly 
may  we  not  misapply  truths  when  selfishly  minded. 

Thanks  to  remnants  of  a  sign-post  or  two,  a  few 
scraps  of  paper  here  and  there,  and  now  and  then  a 
solitary  heel-mark  or  a  broken  twig,  but  mainly  through 
intuition  or  instinct,  or  better,  luck,  I  managed  to  make 
no  inconsiderable  headway  and  finally  stumbled  into  the 
precincts  of  a  mountain  saeter  sleepily  ensconced  on  a 
sun-kissed  hillside  and  baring  its  nourishing  bosom  of 
herbs  and  greens  to  a  hundred  eager,  feeding  mouths. 
There  were  cows  and  sheep  and  goats. 

In  my  joy  I  thought  to  look  around,  and  could  dis- 
cern in  the  dim  distance  three  figures,  resembling  human 
beings,  busily  rummaging  around  among  the  peaks  as  if 
in  quest  of  a  way.  It  made  me  happy  to  think  that  they 
were  possibly  in  a  dilemma,  but,  manfully  and  without 
rancor,  I  waved  my  umbrella  at  them,  though  of  course 
I  failed  to  attract  their  attention.  "Each  one  for  himself" 
seemed  to  be  the  slogan  in  these  parts ;  so  I  took  my  eyes 
off  them  and  left  them  to  their  pleasure,  being  more  im- 
mediately concerned  with  a  consuming  and  ever-increas- 
ing thirst  that  now  demanded  to  be  quenched.  At  sight 
of  the  saeter  there  came  visions  of  buttermilk,  sour  milk, 
sweet  milk  and  of  that  odoriferous  liquid  brought  forth 
from  the  goat.  It  seemed  like  a  dream,  too  good  to  come 
true,  but  I  made  haste  to  realize  it,  entering  the  door  of 
the  hut  quickly  and  without  ceremony,  not  even  so 
much  as  knocking;  for  that,  I  had  learned,  was  not  cus- 
tomary. I  had  expected  the  door  to  open  into  silence 
and  emptiness,  but  found  two  saeter  girls  inside  puz- 
zling over  a  separator  and  making  cream,  butter  and 
cheese.  They  were  not  a  bit  bashful,  nor  were  they  sur- 
prised, but  took  me  into  their  confidence  at  once,  telling 


Photo  by   IVilse,  Kristiania. 


Milking  the  goat. 
(91) 


92  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

me  about  their  families  and  whatever  else  they  thought 
it  worth  while  for  me  to  know.  They  filled  me  with 
milk  and  would  have  added  coffee,  but  to  this  I  made 
strenuous  objection,  feeling  that  it  would  be  so  very 
unnecessary.  They  showed  me  the  shelves  of  cheese, 
boiling  vats,  and  the  many  other  things  they  had ;  and 
tmce,  while  I  was  busy  nibbling  a  piece  of  their  primest 
product,  "gjede  ost"  (goat  cheese),  one  of  them  slyly 
slipped  on  a  brand  new  skirt,  and  this  quite  especially 
for  my  benefit ;  she  wanted  to  look  her  nicest  before  the 
stranger.  I  was  so  touched  by  their  guilelessness  and 
goodness  of  heart  that  I  stayed  to  tell  them  as  much  as 
they  wished  to  know  about  America,  that  country  of 
wealth,  that  dream  of  delight,  that  place  whither  they 
so  eagerly  desired  to  go,  and  whither  their  brothers  and 
cousins  and  friends  had  gone  before.  They  were  bold  as 
fawns,  trusting  as  lambs  and  quite  unconscious  of  self. 
There  wasn't  a  doubt  in  their  minds  but  that  this  chance 
stranger  was  the  incarnation  of  all  things  worth  know- 
ing, with  goodness  and  sincerity  thrown  in  for  good 
measure.  How  easily  we  may  ingratiate  ourselves  with 
the  lowly !  How  beautiful  and  how  complete  is  their 
regard !  Ingrate  he  who  would  in  ignoble  manner  in  any 
way  betray  or  disillusionize  them. 

They  accompanied  me  far  on  my  way  and  told  me 
all  about  the  pathway,  down  to  the  veriest  details,  which 
I  of  course  promptly  forgot,  as  all  directions  so  gen- 
erously vouchsafed  are  apt  to  be  forgotten.  Although 
there  was  actually  something  of  a  path  I  had  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  following  its  traces.  It  skipped  over  stones 
and  got  itself  lost  in  little  brook-beds,  meandering  slyly 
through  seemingly  unbroken  heather  and  escaping  from 
pursuit  under  great  blankets  of  pine  needles.  Meeting 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  93 

with  trees,  I  dodged  uncertainly  in  and  out  among  them 
as  if  chasing  butterflies  or  sunbeams,  being  in  reality  but 
occupied  with  my  quest  of  the  wily  pathway.  Certain 
kinds  of  moss  lying  in  wait  decoyed  it  into  the  very  woof 
of  its  velvety  body-covering,  hiding  it  there  and  giving 
no  outward  sign  of  what  it  had  so  cunningly  concealed. 
But  by  casting  my  eye  beyond  the  little  mossbeds  I  dis- 
covered the  trick  and,  walking  (tracklessly)  to  the  op- 
posite side,  found  the  place  where  the  subdued  foot- 
prints weakly  emerged. 

Having  finally  descended  well  into  the  wooded 
tracts  the  road  widened,  having  gained  more  assurance, 
as  it  were,  through  much  familiarity  with  frequenters  in 
quest  of  feed  and  fuel.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  following 
its  windings  after  this ;  in  fact,  it  was  so  very  much  in 
evidence  and  so  tortuous  that  I  wished  there  had  been 
much  less  of  it  and  that  it  would  pursue  a  less  zigzag 
course ;  but  it  continued  along  the  old  original  line  of  least 
resistance,  as  first  laid  out,  distance  not  having  been  con- 
sidered. I  grew  so  tired  of  this  awkward  twisting  and 
turning  that  I  threatened  to  leave  it  and  go  straight 
across,  but  after  trying  this  short-cut  for  just  one  min- 
ute, I  scrambled  back  very  glad  that  I  had  sustained  no 
broken  back  or  met  with  any  other  unhappy  experience. 
Perhaps  it  was  an  old  cow  that  had  wandered  hither 
first,  her  instinct  telling  her  that  it  was  wiser  to  cover  the 
incline  in  many  gradual  turns  than  to  risk  sliding  on 
her  haunches  down  a  straight,  steep  course.  There  were, 
however,  places  she  should  have  walked  around  instead 
of  across ;  for  where  is  the  philosophy  in  climbing  over  a 
given  eminence  when  the  distance  is  the  same  either  way 
around.  Of  old,  such  useless  climbing  was  invariably 
indulged  in  till  an  old  "bonde"  (peasant)  illustrated  the 


94  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

folly  of  it  by  asking  which  was  the  easier  way  for  a 
worm  to  crawl,  along  a  kettle-handle  standing  up,  or 
lying  down?  The  hint  was  taken,  for  modern  roads 
climb  no  more  hills  than  is  necessary ;  they  stroll  around 
them.  But  the  cow  of  by-gone  days  had  not  known  this, 
and  since  then  her  apathetic  string  of  followers  have 
never  roused  themselves  sufficiently  to  locate  a  better 
course.  And  I  must  needs  follow  in  their  proper  foot- 
steps !  I  got  glimpses  of  the  location  of  my  hotel  many 
a  time,  and  though  I  did  not  dare  undertake  to  deny 
that  it  was  real,  it  was  like  following  a  Will  o'  the  Wisp. 
To  pass  the  time  I  kept  on  asking  and  answering  the  fol- 
lowing questions  or  conundrums :  —  Which  is  more 
elusive,  a  mountain  top  or  a  valley  equi-distant  from  a 
given  point?  Ans.  Both.  Which  is  hardest  to  attain? 
Ans.  Either  one  is  worse  than  the  other. 

The  last  stretch  seemed  the  longest,  and  I  quite  lost 
my  patience.  The  nearer  I  came  to  the  object  of  my  de- 
sire the  more  eagerly  I  longed  to  attain  it.  I  would  have 
annihilated  the  distance  at  a  bound,  but  my  weary 
limbs  held  me  back,  so  that  I  was  glad  enough  to  halt  and 
lean  over  a  fence  for  a  little  rest,  making  enquiry,  mean- 
while, as  to  the  whereabouts  of  my  hostelry. 

My  question  was  addressed  to  a  kind-looking  woman 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fence,  who  hurriedly  ad- 
vanced to  make  respectful  answer  and  be  of  service. 
Things  are  so  very  peculiar  in  this  world :  I  pay  a  stiff 
price  for  my  room,  but  for  the  privilege  of  knowing 
where  to  find  it,  which  is  a  first  consideration  and  su- 
premely important,  I  pay  the  informant  merely  with  a 
nod  of  thanks.  Nevertheless,  it  is  not  always  what  we 
actually  pay  for  that  we  prize  the  most  highly.  The  di- 
rection was  hers  to  give  and  no  more,  but  there  was  a 
wealth  of  willingness  behind  it.  I  grew  curious  about 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  95 

her  and  stopped  for  a  short  chat.  She  was  a  poor 
enough  creature  but  she  did  not  appear  dissatisfied ;  her 
look  was  serene.  Her  dress  was  of  homespun  and  coarse 
in  very  truth.  The  rather  tight-fitting  red  waist  did  not 
quite  make  connection  with  the  short  skirt  which  hung 
precariously  dependent  on  'but  one  visible  means  of  sup- 
port, viz.,  a  large,  white  button  perched  conspicuously 
somewhere  about  her  back.  The  skirt  being  so  scant, 
the  ankles  stood  high  and  dry,  rising  from  well-stock- 
inged feet  set  in  the  spacious  troughs  of  a  pair  of 
wooden  shoes  beneath.  She  was  making  hay  alone ;  also, 
she  was  quite  alone  in  the  world,  being  an  old  maid  of 
some  sixty  summers.  Since  the  dear  mother  died  she 
had  experienced  much  of  struggle  and  loneliness.  Yet 
her  home  was  inexpressibly  dear  to  her,  the  few  belong- 
ings being  doubly  dear  from  a  beloved  mother's  touch. 
Her  tiny  room  was  her  sanctuary.  Her  things  were  al- 
ways kept  strictly  where  her  own  hand  had  put  them. 
Hers  was  the  very  atmosphere  that  greeted  her  comings 
and  goings.  Children  excepted,  her  callers  were  none. 
With  a  tear-stained  tot  on  her  knee  God  saw  her  as  His 
noblest  work.  Her  prayerful  fondling  of  some  mother's 
child,  her  bestowal  of  such  unselffish  love,  placed  her  lit- 
tle lower  than  the  angels ;  and  therefore  God  loves  her 
and  her  like  a  little  better,  perhaps,  than  mere  mothers 
or  other  ordinary  beings. 

Having  now  gained  the  highway,  I  found  walking 
less  difficult;  in  fact,  the  road  was  so  smooth  that  I  paid 
but  slight  attention  to  my  feet,  allowing  them  a  great 
measure  of  freedom  and  giving  them  a  sort  of  half- 
holiday  after  their  recent  activities  on  the  heights.  It 
was  a  delight  to  me  to  step  along  so  carelessly,  free  from 
concern  of  any  kind,  enabling  me  to  enjoy  to  the  full  the 
beauties  of  field  and  roadside. 


CHAPTER  X 
A  Road  with  an  Abrupt  Ending 

CHE  hotel  proved  to  be  all  a  tired  man  could  desire, 
giving  me  privacy  in  a  clean  room,  a  well  spread 
table,  pretty  surroundings,  and  a  friendly  host. 
He  was  building  another  hotel  to  accomodate  future 
guests  but  this  did  not  hinder  him  from  entertaining  the 
ones  he  had.  It  is  in  these  country  hotels  that  one  some- 
times meets  the  twice-talkative  guest.  What  you  or  I 
know  he  soon  appropriates,  and  what  he  knows  nobody 
can  escape  from.  For  supper  we  were  treated  to  the 
most  delicious,  accommodating  fish  which  had  flopped 
right  out  of  the  river,  and  had  lived  to  see  its  own  fry- 
ing-pan. 

During  the  evening  I  sat  in  the  arbor  and  looked 
and  listened  to  my  heart's  content.  The  mountain 
scenery  provided  rich  inspiration,  and  the  music  from 
the  near-by  river  sang  a  symphony  of  sound  into  my 
soul. 

It  is  pleasant  communing  with  nature  thus,  but  con- 
cern for  the  morrow  bade  me  arise,  enter  the  hotel  and 
say  good  night  to  my  kind  friends  —  the  princesses  had 
come  and  were  amiable  to  all  —  and  seek  in  sleep  the 
recuperation  needed  for  another  day's  exertions.  A  rag- 
ing mountain  stream,  the  B0ver  river,  raced  past  my 
window,  and  its  waters  sang  to  me  in  ceaseless  mono- 
tone all  through  the  night.  At  first  I  was  irritated,  as 
the  occupant  of  a  sleeping-car  is  irritated  by  the  incessant 
din  of  the  moving  train ;  but  finally,  becoming  accus- 

(96) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  97 

tomed  to  the  novel  lullaby,  I  was  soothed  into  a  state  of 
drowsiness,  and  should  have  been  painfuly  startled  by 
any  sudden  cessation  of  the  river's  unending  refrain. 
Night  sped  by  without  its  usual  train  of  Hours,  my 
sound  sleep  having,  seemingly,  for  once,  stolen  a  march 
on  Father  Time.  The  senses  corroborated  me  in  this, 
but  not  my  watch,  which  had  ticked  all  the  seconds  faith- 
fully away  while  its  owner  was  unconscious,  and  upon 
my  waking  indicated  a  rather  late  hour.  I  could  have 
smashed  it  for  being  so  correct,  but  got  up  mechanically. 
As  the  roadway  lay  alongside  the  river  it  gave  me 
an  opportunity  to  watch  the  traps  and  pitfalls  lying  in 
wait  in  its  bed  as  the  unsuspecting  water,  forever  fooled, 
dropped  into  cauldrons,  swung  into  eddies  or  was  pulled 
this  way  and  that  into  frenzied  currents  or  whirlpools. 
Liberated  here,  it  hurried  on  only  to  slap  its  face,  the 
next  moment,  against  an  unfeeling  boulder  grown  green 
with  age  in  this  business.  Though  it  was  no  doubt  on 
the  look-out  against  repetitions  of  such  mishaps,  it  was 
not  prepared  on  general  principles,  and,  "once  a  fool, 
always  a  fool,"  it  got  caught  by  a  new  trick  each  time, 
though  each  fresh  trick  was  but  a  slight  modification  of 
an  old  one.  To  my  questioning  mind  the  answer  came 
that  it  was  gravitation  that  caused  most  of  the  trouble, 
the  poor  water  being  goaded  on,  pulled  and  pushed  to  its 
punishment  by  an  unseen  ever-active  force,  over  these 
horrors  of  stone  and  chasm,  along  a  pathway  none  other 
must  take.  A  sheer  drop  might  have  been  preferable, 
but  from  this  trying,  tumultous  ordeal  it  emerged  clari- 
fied, purified,  and  fit  for  man  and  beast  to  drink.  Gravi- 
tation laid  also  a  detaining  hand  on  my  poor  legs.  I  was 
walking  uphill,  against  the  stream,  hence  not  entitled  to 
a  push  or  a  lift.  I  would  not  ask  the  latter,  but  desired 

7 


98  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

earnestly  that  I  might  be  let  alone,  left  free  to  move  with 
equal  ease  any  way  I  pleased,  be  it  up  or  down.  This 
was  not  allowed  me,  however,  and  I  trudged  upwards, 
nursing,  as  always,  a  slight  grudge  against  Nature  when 
opposed  by  her  inviolable  laws. 

Lifting  my  eyes  from  the  struggling  stream  and 
casting  them  upwards,  I  suddenly  opened  them  very 
wide ;  for  there,  rising  sheer  on  the  left,  outlined  against 
the  deep  blue  of  the  heavens,  was  my  mountain  of  yes- 
terday, grand  as  ever,  and  fully  as  desirable  as  when  I 
had  it  under  me.  It  had  grown  even  more  beautiful  in 
the  distance,  and  the  enchantment  of  the  unattainable,  so 
to  speak,  gripped  me.  It  beckoned  from  between  smaller 
eminences,  seemingly  at  first  glance  as  near  as  they,  but 
grown  awful  upon  further  contemplation  and  full  reali- 
zation. Never  did  I  enjoy  my  mountain  as  I  did  this 
morning,  as  it  played  hide-and-seek  with  me  between  the 
hills  on  my  journey  along  the  Bjzfver  River. 

The  road  continued  good  for  several  miles,  and  gave 
me  no  concern  till  it  forked,  when  my  branch  developed 
a  decided  roughness.  I  had  chosen  a  route  little  fre- 
quented by  tourists,  and  told  myself  not  to  be  unduly  so- 
licitous for  the  comfort  of  my  feet.  Having  bobbed  un- 
certainly up  and  down  for  some  distance,  and  having 
started  to  chide  myself  for  taking  this  road  after  all,  I 
came  up  with  a  lone,  solitary  laborer  who  worked  at  the 
end  of  it.  I  learned  that  he  alone  had  brought  it  thus  far 
and  he  expected  to  continue  it  still  further,  no  govern- 
ment aid  being  at  his  disposal  to  hasten  the  work.  True, 
the  community  in  which  he  lived  in  the  valley  below  re- 
membered him  with  a  small  stipend,  otherwise  he  could 
not  have  kept  at  his  task.  I  happened  to  come  while  he 
was  still  too  young;  he  should  have  been  at  least  fifty 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  99 

years  longer  at  work,  when  it  would  no  doubt  have 
proved  to  be  a  real  pleasure  to  pass  this  way.  To  build 
a  road  single-handed  in  such  territory  takes  much 
patience ;  it  requires  such  perseverance  as  the  ancients 
had,  who  in  a  lifetime  were  content  to  execute  merely  a 
part  of  certain  vast  works  planned. 

Our  road-builder  had  laid  aside  his  shovel  long  be- 
fore I  addressed  him,  glad  of  any  pretext  for  a  rest,  but 
cheerful  and  willing  to  resume  work  when  circumstances 
afforded  him  no  plausible  excuse  for  further  delay.  He 
scooped  the  loose  rocks  into  the  middle  of  the  road-to-be, 
finishing  it  off  with  moss,  peat  and  earth,  on  top.  When 
it  was  possible  he  made  ditches  alongside  it  to  carry 
away  the  water,  and  also  to  heighten  the  road  effect.  A 
number  of  shovelsful  from  either  side,  heaped  in  the  mid- 
dle, soon  accomplished  this  purpose.  He  chose  to  follow 
the  windings  of  the  ascending  valley  as  it  climbed, 
against  the  stream,  toward  the  fields  of  eternal  snow. 
Like  the  government  experts  he  avoided  the  very  steep 
inclines  which  would  have  rendered  his  road  useless,  but 
laid  it  out  so  that  the  ascent  was  gradual  and  as  regular 
as  the  general  topography  of  the  territory  would  allow. 
When  I  told  him  that  one  of  the  main  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  the  making  of  new  roads  in  the  great  middle 
West  was,  not  mountains  nor  ice-tracts,  but  indecision, 
some  spots  of  mud  and  lots  of  red  tape,  he  could  only 
smile  and  look  his  feelings  at  the  uncouth  territory,  im- 
possible by  comparison,  that  lay  before  us,  daring  him  to 
subdue  it. 

My  road  thus  ended,  the  laborer's  little  son  volun- 
teered to  show  me  a  path,  one  that  had  been  made  hun- 
dreds of  years  before  for  the  traffic  between  Lom  and 
Sogn.  As  he  left  I  encountered  a  blackfaced  saeter  dog 


IOO 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


that  yelped  defiance  at  me  as  I  started  to  cross  the  ter- 
ritory over  which  he  stood  guard.  I  ignored  him,  step- 
ping boldly  into  his  domains,  he  meanwhile  barking  in 
tones  of  hottest  hate;  nor  would  be  desist  even  after  I 
had  passed  by  and  plainly  shown  him  that  I  did  not  de- 
sire to  carry  away  any  of  his  mountains  or  other  belong- 
ings. His  rancor  increased  with  the  distance  between 
us,  and  this  no  doubt  because  I  had  done  no  harm  what- 
ever, thus  robbing  him  of  an  excuse  for  taking  revenge 
and  biting  me.  He  had  a  colt,  some  sheep  and  a  few 


Drawing    by   E.    Biorn. 

A  mountain  saeter. 

cows  to  account  for.     Dropping  behind  a  jutting  rock,  I 
was  at  last  freed  from  his  clamour. 

The  scenery  here  had  no  particular  pattern,  being  a 
jumble  of  brown,  heathery  stretches  and  rugged  rock 
formations,  with  no  distant  view  in  any  direction.  It 
was  now  that  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  goat,  a 
sure-footed  pedestrain,  a  solitary  wayfarer,  as  was  I 
myself.  We  met  point  blank,  face  to  face,  directly  in  the 
path,  took  stock  of  each  other  calmly  and  dispassion- 
ately, and  offered  no  hindrance  to  each  other  as  we 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


101 


passed.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  looked  through  and 
through  by  those  steady  eyes,  and  glanced  around  to 
view  the  retreating  figure,  turning  only  to  look  square 
into  the  face  of  the  uncanny  thing.  It  evidently  had  not 
seen  enough,  nor  had  I ;  so  we  gazed  our  fill.  He  was 


Drawing    by 

E.   Biorn. 

A  Sure-footed  pedestrian. 


looking   for   choice  tidbits, 
and,     having     contemplated     me 
sufficiently,      he      stepped      reck-  '  • 

lessly    aside,    inviting    the    worst 

kind  of  a  tumble ;  but  he  got  the  choice  morsel  he  was 
after,  and  stood  balanced  securely  enough,  nonchalant  as 
ever.  While  he  munched  it  he  stood  out  in  the 
most  exasperating  position  imaginable,  squinting  mis- 
chievously at  me  as  if  noting  my  concern  and  enjoying 
it.  He  then  jumped,  as  I  thought,  to  his  destruction ;  but 
his  feet  struck  just  where  he  had  aimed,  and  there  he 


IO2  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

hung  without  a  tremor,  reaching  out  for  a  coveted  leaf 
and  remaining  as  unconcerned  as  ever,  seemingly  im- 
mune from  danger.  When  he  made  another  mad  leap 
I  turned  away  and  quickly  resumed  my  journey,  not 
wishing  to  be  a  witness  to  his  self-destruction. 

All  this  time  —  that  is,  since  I  left  Galdhjzfpiggen  — 
I  had  been  "toting"  a  well-filled  camera,  holding  it  aloft 
gingerly  in  unsafe  places,  carefully  guarding  it  from  mis- 
hap, till  nerves  and  muscles  were  all  a-quiver  with  liveliest 
protest  at  the  bothersome  burden.  To  go  empty-handed 
should  be  the  motto  of  all  mountain-climbers.  An  in- 
finitesimal bundle  even  when  carried  on  the  back,  though 
so  seemingly  slight,  causes  inconvenience  enough.  I 
came  to  regard  that  persistent  pull  on  my  hands  with  al- 
most unholy  feelings.  But  finally  the  handle  broke, 
which  relieved  me  of  the  weight  for  a  second;  but  it 
didn't  soothe  the  feelings  any.  With  fear  tugging  at 
my  heart  I  threw  myself  down,  catching  the  camera-case 
by  its  leathern  ear  and  getting  it  again  within  my  grasp, 
but  fearful  as  to  the  condition  of  the  contents.  Had  I 
brought  those  plates  thus  far,  with  the  utmost  care,  only 
to  ruin  them  at  last?  Why  had  they  not  gone  to  their 
destruction  sooner  if  such  was  to  be  their  fate?  I  re- 
placed the  offending  screw  and  walked  on  in  dread  un- 
certainty as  to  what  manner  of  material  I  had  by  this 
time  accumulated  and  developed  in  my  black  box  dang- 
ling heavier  than  ever  in  the  crook  of  my  finger. 

While  in  a  rather  depressed  state  of  mind  on  ac- 
count of  my  mishap,  I  came  upon  a  natural  bridge  wait- 
ing to  be  crossed,  where  my  curiosity  was  roused  and  at 
the  same  time  my  blues  were  dispelled.  After  clamber- 
ing over  the  hump-backed  bridge  I  climbed  down  among 
the  rocks  and  drew  as  near  the  swishing  stream  as  I 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  103 

dared,  noting  with  great  glee  the  water  as  it  danced  and 
caroused  through  the  fissures  and  yawning  gaps  between 
the  rocky,  crudely-set  bridge  supports.  It  was  the  water 
that  had  originally  discovered  its  own  way  of  egress  here, 
being  averse  to  rising  and  crossing  at  a  higher  level  when 
an  easier  route  was  possible.  It  had  pushed  away  the 
smaller  obstructions  and  now  brushed  rather  roughly 
through  between  the  more  obstinate  barriers  of  stone 
still  remaining  to  dispute  its  passage.  I  grew  slightly  un- 
easy as  I  stood  there;  things  looked  so  altogether  topsy- 
turvy and  loosely  hinged  that  I  couldn't  venture  to  fore- 
cast what  might  happen  here  next.  There  came  over  me 
a  sense  of  the  vast  solitude  encompassing  me,  though  the 
hissing  at  my  feet  served  as  no  inconsiderable  distrac- 
tion, yet  far  from  reassuringly.  I  stood  there  awe- 
stricken,  while  all  the  gnomes  and  hob-goblins  gathered 
about ;  but  peeping  furtively  upwards,  my  eye  met  a 
shining  drift,  and  the  spell  vanished ;  nature  smiled  and 
beckoned  from  many  a  nook,  the  sprites  came  out  to 
dance,  and  all  was  well. 

A  little  further  on  I  passed  a  remarkable  pile  of 
stones ;  but  whether  it  was  fashioned  by  human  hands 
or  was  the  result  of  natural  causes,  can  hardly  be  deter- 
mined. It  was  a  veritable  freak,  anyhow.  A  mass  of 
sliced  and  scissored  rock  consisting  of  pieces  of  no  great 
size  had  been  dumped  into  a  vast  regular  pile,  acres  in 
length,  but  narrow  and  symmetrical,  and  as  high  as  a 
house.  There  were  no  similar  rocks  in  the  vicinity,  but 
there  was  a  swift-flowing  river,  and  whether  it  had 
picked  them  up  and  how,  or  what  forces  had  been  at 
work,  remains  a  problem. 

I  had  been  climbing  gradually  upward  and  did  not 
realize  the  height  attained  till  I  saw  myself  on  a  level 


IO4  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

with  several  scattered  blankets  of  snow  that  had  not  been 
exposed  to  any  but  the  oblique  rays  of  the  sun.  These 
remained,  many  of  them,  in  comparatively  low  altitudes, 
yet  they  were  high  and  difficult  enough  to  reach  on  the 
part  of  a  mere  pedestrian.  Birds  soaring  over  the  valley 
and  nearly  lost  to  sight  from  below  in  the  azure  above, 
because  of  the  seeming  great  height,  appeared,  when  seen 
from  my  first  snow  drift  (if  detected  at  all),  as  if  they 
were  hovering  about,  ready  to  light  on  the  first  house- 
top. 

The  hotel  came  into  view  readily  enough,  in  the 
midst  of  the  valley,  where  no  one  could  miss  seeing  it 
after  coming  thus  far.  But  to  reach  it  had  been  my  main 
difficulty,  for  I  had  tramped  till  three  o'clock  before  suc- 
ceeding. I  was  frankly  gazed  upon  by  the  inmates 
through  the  windows,  and  it  made  me  feel  very  much 
like  a  bashful  school-boy  receiving  a  reprimand  before 
his  class.  I  was  seized  with  self-consciousness  and  could 
not  bear  myself  gracefully.  There  is  so  little  variety  in 
the  scenery  in  this  immediate  region  that  any  slight  di- 
version, even  though  it  be  but  the  approach  of  a  humble 
wayfarer  like  myself,  is  better  than  nothing  to  relieve  the 
monotony.  I  managed  to  make  my  way  toward  the  en- 
trance somehow,  though  nearly  put  to  rout  by  the  many 
eye-missies  darted  at  me  as  I  drew  near. 

I  was  promptly  escorted  to  the  table,  where  I  found 
myself  quite  alone,  facing  a  stale  dinner  that  had  been 
in  readiness  for  any  comer,  white  or  yellow,  some  two 
hours.  Beside  the  inevitable  prune,  I  do  not  remem- 
ber clearly  what  was  served,  but  it  was  sufficient,  and 
rendered  substantially  the  same  service  as  any  other  or- 
dinary meal  would  have  done,  come  upon  by  chance  in 
any  one  of  a  million  different  places. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  105 

In  the  parlor  I  found  an  old  man  smoking  and 
reading  most  diligently.  His  whole  attitude  gave  the 
impression  that  he  was  determined  to  make  the  very  ut- 
most of  his  vacation.  He  had  dispensed  with  vacations 
till  he  had  secured  plenty  of  money  and  leisure,  being 
sorry  now,  however,  that  he  had  waited  so  long,  and 
trying  his  hardest  to  make  up  for  lost  time  by  cramming 
himself  with  a  surfeit  of  enjoyment  during  the  remain- 
ing years  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XI 
Onward  to  Krosboden 

BAVING  planned  to'  reach  Krosboden  before  night- 
fall, I  bade  good-bye  to  the  strenuous  vacationist, 
took  my  camera,  and  quietly  slipped  away  just 
thirty-seven  cents  lighter  of  purse  than  when  I  came. 
What  curious  scrutiny   followed  me  as  I  took  my  de- 
parture, I  know  not,  as  my  eyes  were  wholly  occupied  in 
guiding  my  feet  safely  along  the  crooked  path. 

I  was  in  no  especial  mood  for  sight-seeing  as  I 
plodded  on,  and  as  this  particular  valley  had  an  awkward 
way  of  shutting  off  the  adjacent  scenery,  I  was  spared 
from  looking.  To  tell  the  truth  I  came  to  wish  there 
were  just  a  little  less  to  see  sometimes,  especially  after 
having  been  satiated,  for  the  time  being,  with  some 
glorious  view  that  had  sufficiently  satisfied  my  esthetical 
longings.  But  being  a  born  curiosity-seeker  my  en- 
thusiasm soon  came  back  and  I  was  all  afire  again  with 
eagerness  to  explore  the  unknown  and  unseen.  My  val- 
ley had  an  obstruction  at  the  end  of  it,  gagging  its  very 
mouth,  as  it  were ;  for  when  I  finally  climbed  over  its 
peculiar  back,  which  I  had  regarded  in  the  distance  for 
so  long,  there  was  no  clearly  defined  valley  to  be  seen 
any  more.  But  I  still  had  before  me  a  depression ;  in 
fact,  one  seems  nearly  always  to  be  wandering  around 
in  depressions  in  the  mountains.  The  highest  points  re- 
main but  a  stone's  throw  away,  wherever  you  are,  and 
they  have  a  clever  knack  of  eluding  one,  though  just  oc- 
casionally they  may  be  caught  and  cornered. 

(106) 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  107 

The  Krosboden  hotel  occupies  a  bleak  site  not  far 
from  the  rim  of  a  mighty  drift,  and  well  within  the  cloud 
region.  I  arrived  there  at  eight  o'clock  and  was 
promptly  led  to  a  room,  but  as  quickly  ousted  by  an  oc- 
cupant already  installed  and  deaf  to  any  claims  I  could 
put  forward.  I  poured  out  my  troubles  to  the  lady  man- 
ager, but  she  had  plenty  of  her  own,  the  place  being  over- 
crowded with  guests.  Evidently  my  advent  had  been 
but  carelessly  regarded.  She  admitted  that  I  could  not 
sleep  outside,  but  suggested  the  floor.  This  was  not  what 
I  had  been  looking  forward  to,  but  as  there  was  no  alter- 
native, a  lair  was  found  for  me  in  a  corner,  into  which 
I  had  the  privilege  of  creeping  whenever  I  felt  so  in- 
clined. 

Before  going  to  bed  (?)  I  visited  the  parlor,  which 
was  full  to  overflowing,  with  not  an  easy  chair  left  for 
me.  I  had  been  so  much  alone  during  the  day  that  I 
refused  to  leave,  promising  to  be  good,  offering  to  stand 
up.  And  if  it  hadn't  been  so  cold  I  could  have  managed 
to  enjoy  myself  a  little.  There  was  present  a  lady  with 
a  pure-air  hobby  who  went  to  the  most  frigid  extremes, 
and,  with  no  heart  whatever  for  her  less  warm  blooded 
fellow  beings,  flung  a  window  wide  open  for  the  icy  air 
to  sweep  down  from  an  adjacent  glacier  directly  into 
our  very  laps  and  lungs.  Having  exercised  so  much 
during  the  day,  I  had  but  little  vitality  left  to  resist  its 
chill,  and  fell  to  shivering  under  its  influence.  Highly 
displeased,  I  took  occasion  to  impart  to  a  fellow  suf- 
ferer, hugging  the  almost  useless  stove,  my  well- formu- 
lated ideas  regarding  such  contrary  females.  He  listened 
with  rapt  attention,  but  did  not  offer  to  add  a  thought  of 
his  own,  or  encourage  me  to  pursue  the  subject  further. 
Perhaps  he  might  have  done  so,  however,  had  it  been 


IOS  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

another  man's  wife  and  not  his  own.  My  vexation  at 
myself  was  so  great  that  I  could  have  shed  tears  when 
she,  the  wife,  as  most  unexpectedly  happened,  broke  into 
the  conversation,  discovering  to  me  their  relations.  It  is 
always  rather  unsafe  to  discuss  one's  neighbors  thus.  So 
thought  also  the  Afghanese  on  the  train  discussing  their 
queen  when  surprised  by  a  reprimand  from  that  per- 
son herself,  she  happening  to  be  on  board  and  having 
among  her  accomplishments,  an  acquaintance  with  the 
language  they  spoke. 

I  spent  the  night  tugging  at  both  ends  of  the  "aakla" 
(bed-cover)  to  make  it  reach,  and  banging  the  floor  with 
my  elbows  till  the  very  timbers  rang.  Lying  flat  on  my 
back,  straight  as  an  arrow,  on  the  sparsely  covered  floor, 
my  chest  seemed  to  heave  up  like  a  mountain  while  my 
head  did  not  merely  remain  stationary  at  its  base,  but 
sank  lower  still.  When  I  overturned  the  mountain  and 
lay  on  my  side,  my  back  seemed  broken,  and  I  felt  as  if 
my  ribs  were  piercing  the  flesh.  I  got  up  in  the  wee 
sma'  hours,  unrefreshed,  and  began  to  wonder  at  my- 
self for  having  willingly  left  a  decent  bed  back  home 
only  to  bring  up  in  a  trap  like  this. 

A  glorious  dawn,  another  breakfast,  and  much  cheer- 
ful female  chatter  exerted  a  reviving  influence,  and  I 
became  somewhat  readjusted  by  the  time  our  cavalcade 
was  to  set  forth.  I  was  to  travel  with  a  couple  of 
Swedish  lawyers  who  had  engaged  a  pony  to  carry  their 
belongings,  and  mine  if  I  wished  it,  they  tripping  merrily 
on  behind.  They  were  as  polite  to  me  as  if  I  had  been 
their  king. 

With  such  company  I  might  well  have  been  elated; 
but  an  unaccountable  depression  of  spirits  assailed  me, 
and  the  secenery,  which  is  described  as  the  wildest  in 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  109 

Norway,  wore  for  me  a  frowning  look.  With  no  sun  at 
midday,  passing"  near  a  vale  of  shattered  stone,  black  and 
forbidding,  under  Fanaraaken's  mighty  wing  on  the  left, 
I  shivered  as  if  struck  by  a  chill  from  the  Valley  of 
Shadows.  Two  weeks  later  I  received  word  that  at  this 
very  moment  little  "Madit,"  a  favorite  niece,  the  alto- 
gether lovely,  had  passed  through  the  Valley  itself,  and 
had  reached  a  hand  dumbly  across  the  sea  to  give  the 
last  parting  caress.  But  the  gloom  was  not  of  long  dura- 
tion, for  presently  there  opened  up  between  the  peaks, 
such  vistas  of  glory  as  made  us  catch  our  breath  and  re- 
turn thanks  to  Him  who  had  spread  such  a  feast  be- 
fore us. 

Sm^rstabben  glacier  showed  its  broken,  rumpled 
edge  quite  near,  emitting  from  its  ragged  mouth  a  rush- 
ing stream  that  combined  the  innumerable  rills  trick- 
ling from  the  melting  ice.  The  crumbling  edge  of  the 
icy  expanse  was  frightfully  fissured ;  awful  was  the  as- 
pect of  the  rent  and  riven  masses  crushed  into  weird 
forms  and  conglomerations  by  the  titanic  pressure  from 
behind.  Although  there  was  no  hurry  apparent,  there 
were  evidences  of  an  enormous  propulsive  force  that  had 
had  its  beginning  ages  ago.  The  newly  exposed  blocks 
of  ice  blinked  hard  at  the  sun,  for  they  had  not  met  for 
the  last  thousand  years.  Moraines  had  formed  on  the 
mountainsides,  designating  sites  of  ancient  glacier 
mouths,  Nature's  record  of  her  sway  during  the  long-for- 
gotten days.  Disintegrated  stone  and  bits  of  stray  soil 
invited  vegetation  in  such  spots  when  not  too  high,  but 
in  these  dizzy  altitudes  the  debris  remained  black,  the 
sun  being  unable  to  coax  it  into  any  other  form;  also, 
it  was  hidden  in  snow  the  greater  portion  of  the  year. 

We  passed  many  cairns,  and  therefore  should  have 


IIO  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  the  right  direction  without  a 
guide,  but  our  sense  of  distance,  and  all  eye-measure- 
ments in  general,  were  sadly  at  fault.  There  was  sup- 
posed to  exist  somewhere  in  this  region  a  stone  hut  that 
we  were  continually  on  the  lookout  for.  Soon  the  Swede 
in  advance  exclaimed,  "I  believe  I  see  that  hut."  Yes, 
he  was  sure  he  saw  it,  and  so  were  the  others  after  they 
had  reached  the  same  decision  through  much  hesitation 
and  unbelief,  by  degrees.  I  was  obliged  to  confess  that 
I  could  not  see  it,  though  trying  my  best  to  do  so.  A 
ringing  bell  will  say  anything  you  wish  it  to ;  a  variegated 
mountain  scene  or  a  mass  of  clouds  will  reveal  almost 
any  kind  of  figure  one  asks  for;  the  Swedes  wanted  to 
see  a  hut  and  they  were  accommodated,  but  it  was  only  a 
semblance,  and  not  real.  We  saw  other  huts,  but  never 
actual  ones.  No  doubt  we  had  stared  hard  into  the  face 
of  the  one  we  were  looking  for,  but  like  our  old  khaki- 
colored  mule  at  home,  when  astray  and  wanted,  it  would 
not  readily  form  itself  into  a  distinct  shape,  —  at  least 
not  till  the  eyes  were  properly  focused  upon  it. 

Pursuing  our  way,  we  soon  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  some  rather  stiff-looking  people  from  England, 
whose  garb  and  demeanor  showed  them  to  be  gentle-folk 
of  correctest  pattern.  Here  in  the  mountain  wilderness, 
I  dare  say,  one  is  apt  to  rub  elbows  with  more  of  the 
elect  of  that  country  than  if  one  were  to  walk  up  and 
down  the  Strand  or  Piccadilly  for  an  hour.  The  Nor- 
wegian snow-fields  form,  in  summer,  a  meeting-place  for 
them.  Our  respective  guides  took  to  each  other  with  per- 
fect understanding,  and  were,  as  I  later  learned,  and 
seemingly  innocently  enough,  soon  plotting  between  them 
how  to  make  capital  of  such  a  chance  meeting.  The 
Britishers  had  ambled  on  ahead,  leaving  their  man  to 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  III 

bring  up  the  rear,  himself,  horse  and  baggage;  but  no 
sooner  were  they  lost  to  sight  in  the  intricacies  of  the 
path  —  this  being  duly  noted  by  the  sturdy  Norsemen 
—  than  the  straps  on  their  respective  horses  were  sur- 
reptiously  undone  and  the  loads  deftly  transferred  from 
one  beast  to  the  other.  Though  I  had  heard  that  the 
Englishmens'  guide  had  promised  them  personal  attend- 
ance, he  promptly  forgot  the  agreement  and  assumed 
custody  of  the  Swedes  as  if  to  the  manner  -born.  They 
did  not  have  the  heart  to  refuse  his  services.  How  the 
substitute  guide  was  received  by  his  new  masters  when  he 
overtook  them,  we  can  only  conjecture.  Suffice  to  say 
that  by  playing  this  little  trick  our  clever  servants  had 
saved  themselves  half  the  journey,  with  no  one  being  the 
loser. 

We  lunched  in  the  open  beside  a  little  brook  that 
ran  trilling  and  murmuring  unceasingly,  and  that  gave 
us  most  excellent  beverage  from  its  foam-flecked  bosom. 
I  cannot  say  that  I  enjoy  sitting  in  a  cramped  position 
on  the  ground  when  partaking  of  a  meal,  nor  am  I  quite 
over-fond  of  a  meal  itself  when  served  cold  and  minus 
the  proper  preliminaries  to  give  zest  and  make  it  inter- 
esting. Eating  thus  on  the  march,  one  becomes  bluntly 
conscious  why  food  is  taken ;  at  table  it  belongs  to  the 
happy  routine ;  but  here  it  addresses  itself  as  a  prosaic 
necessity. 

The  Swedes  had  all  sorts  of  convenient  things  in 
their  knapsacks,  such  as  collapsible  cups,  can-openers, 
sharp  knives,  pins,  darning-needles,  safety-pins  and  many 
other  things.  I  was  made  a  recipient  of  all  the  benefits 
accruing  therefrom  every  minute  of  the  time  spent  in 
their  gracious  company.  Besides  the  above  mentioned, 
they  had  telescopes  to  see  through,  note  books  to  write 


112  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

in,  legal  acumen  with  which  to  pass  upon  and  properly 
discriminate  things,  as  in  judging  the  scenery,  etc. ; 
all  they  lacked  to  be  complete  was  a  perfectly  appointed 
office-cage  on  wheels,  with  an  auburn-haired,  blue-eyed 
young  thing  inside  to  act  as  typist. 

As  we  wandered  on  we  gradually  left  off  leaning 
forwards  and  took  to  bending  steadily  backwards ;  we 
had  reached  the  highest  point  and  the  incline  had  merely 
tipped  the  other  way.  There  was  no  abatement  in  the 
majesty  of  the  scenery,  however.  But  one  is  never  so 
eager  for  achievement  going  down  as  going  up;  hence 
we  looked  about  us  rather  more  listlessly  as  we  pro- 
ceeded. We  passed  by  a  cone-like  eminence  on  our  left 
where  stood  a  monument  of  granite  to  commemorate 
King  Oscar's  visit  to  these  regions  in  1860.  I  climbed 
to  the  spot  and  found  but  the  inscription,  "Oscar.  Aug. 
15,  1860."  The  Swedes  were  less  loyal,  for  they  hated 
the  climb,  passing  carelessly  by  and  leaving  me  half  a 
mile  in  the  rear  for  my  pains.  They  had  so  often  seen 
the  King  himself,  why  should  they  go  chasing  after  a 
princely  footstep,  and  one  long  ago  obliterated  at  that  ?  I 
too  had  seen  him,  at  Ladugaardsgardet  reviewing  his 
troops,  and  the  nobility  of  his  bearing  and  benignity  of 
his  countenance  had  remained  ever  with  me,  and  im- 
pelled me  to  do  homage  here  to  the  prince,  whose  future 
kingly  motto  became,  "Broder  folkets  val."  (Our 
Brother  peoples'  welfare).  Our  guide  took  pains  to  tell 
of  his  youthful  escapades,  especially  those  concerning  the 
pretty  saeter  maids  stationed  thereabouts,  but  as  his  story 
had  a  home-made  twang,  being  of  the  oft-repeated, 
much-distorted  variety,  it  behooves  us  not  to  make  rec- 
ord of  it. 

While  still  in  this  region  of  royal  reminiscence  it 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  113 

came  to  our  knowledge,  somehow,  that  we  were  not  far 
from  Turtegr^,  where  there  are  two  tourist  hotels.  This 
was  by  far  the  most  agreeable  news  that  could  reach  us 
just  then ;  election  news  or  other  intelligence  from  the 
outside  world  would  have  made  no  impression  upon  us ; 
the  dinner  table  obscured  our  vision  for  aught  else.  Our 
guide  led  us  to  the  least  pretentious  looking  of  the  two 
hostelries,  0ino  Hotel  by  name.  We  asked  if  he  thought 
we  could  get  this  or  that  dish  or  dainty,  and  though  he 
was  hard  of  hearing,  he  answered  unhesitatingly  "yes" 
to  every  thing.  Arrived  at  the  hotel  he  good-naturedly 
shoved  us  into  a  large  waiting  room  where  there  was  a 
table  on  which  were  some  old  magazines  and  some 
Norwegian  fancy-work.  There  he  abandoned  us,  and 
no  one  appeared  to  give  us  further  thought.  But  finally 
someone  was  aroused  in  an  adjoining  room,  sidled  up 
to  our  door,  and  shyly  enquired  what  might  be  our  pleas- 
ure. A  solid  dinner  for  four  was  our  wish,  translated 
into  the  very  plainest  of  mountain  vernacular  and  thrice 
repeated  for  effect.  The  maid  signified  that  she  under- 
stood, gently  shut  the  door  in  our  faces,  and  there  we 
were.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness,  no  clatter  of 
dishes,  no  audible  sign  of  culinary  operations.  Not  much 
encouragement  in  this,  surely.  We  should  have  read 
or  lounged,  studied  the  fancy-work  or  talked,  or  other- 
wise passed  the  time,  so  that  we  might  have  forgotten 
all  about  dinner  till  we  were  called;  but  such  wisdom 
we  lacked,  and  we  remained  painfully  alert  for  any  en- 
couraging sign  from  the  direction  of  the  kitchen. 

When,  finally,  an  unruffled  maid  calmly  announced 
that  the  result  of  our  order  would  soon  be  forthcoming, 
the  conduct  of  affairs  remained  Norwegian  to  the  last; 
no  bustle,  no  bluster,  just  a  casual  appearance  with  a 

8 


114  WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY 

tray  or  two  and  then  another,  and  so  at  last,  dinner 
was  served,  complacently,  unhurriedly,  substantially. 
Though  we  had  pouted  long  at  the  wait,  the  Swedes, 
unused  to  hurrying  through  a  meal,  surprised  me  by 
exhibiting  not  the  slightest  eagerness  when  it  came, 
consuming  it  leisurely,  and  appearing  mainly  intent  on 
intermixing  sufficient  conversation  to  provide  the 
stomach  a  breathing-spell  between  the  mouth fuls.  This 
is  the  Scandinavian  plan ;  rather  the  opposite  to  the 
American  Dyspeptic  System.  We  did  not  pay  quite 
fifty  cents  apiece  for  a  dinner  neatly  served,  ample  in 
quantity,  and  of  quality  unquestioned.  Norwegian  food 
is,  as  a  rule,  excellently  prepared.  There  is  not  the 
American  variety,  cake  and  pie  and  preserves,  for  in- 
stance, being  in  little  favor;  but  as  nearly  all  eatables 
are  harder  to  procure  than  with  us,  and  in  order  to  make 
them  reach  farther  and  do  their  maximum  of  good,  they 
receive  a  thorough  preparation  before  being  served. 

Two  of  the  company  decided  to  stay  for  a  day's 
rest,  leaving  the  remaining  one  and  me  to  wander  forth 
by  ourselves.  We  had  only  a  comparatively  small  num- 
ber of  miles  to  make,  and  with  the  requisite  number 
of  hours  at  our  disposal  in  which  to  cover  them,  it  would 
have  been  easy,  but  this  time-allowance  had  already  been 
too  greatly  reduced.  We  thought  to  make  up  for  the 
reduction  by  adopting  an  exceptionally  rapid  pace;  yet 
the  speed  attained  was  too  low.  The  incline  was  de- 
cided, the  road  good,  so  we  were  enabled  to  fling  the 
feet  far,  say  eight  feet  or  so,  making  thus  a  very  sizable 
step;  anyway,  four  feet.  Our  manner  of  motion  was 
far  from  deliberate;  in  one  way  it  resembled  a  dog  trot 
and  in  another  it  did  not.  Though  we  pattered  along 
ever  so  quickly  there  was  no  stooping  with  ears  down, 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  115 

for  one  remains  remarkably  straight  in  the  back  when 
moving'  down  hill.  Hurry  as  we  would,  our  watches 
still  spurred  us  on,  giving  us  little  leisure  to  note  the 
surroundings  in  this  really  wonderful  descent.  We 
thought  ourselves  in  a  hurry,  but  the  river  seething  along- 
side on  our  left  put  us  to  shame,  being,  seemingly,  quite 
motion-mad.  The  water-falls  appeared  tame  by  com- 
parison, a  sheer  drop  never  conveying  a  particular  im- 
pression of  rush ;  but  this  leaping,  frothy  element  wind- 
ing its  way  hurriedly,  recklessly  forth  midst  rocks  and 
chasms,  jumping  this  way  and  that  as  if  pursued  by 
demons,  formed  a  rough-and-tumble  scene  quite  dread- 
ful to  look  upon.  We  could  not  keep  our  eyes  away, 
however,  for  such  a  variety  of  stunts,  of  screaming 
antics,  would  scarcely  be  performed  again,  we  thought, 
and  we  must  see  it  to  the  end. 

Sometimes  it  looked  wonderfully  grand,  as  for  in- 
stance in  one  place,  where  the  water  dropped  down  un- 
suspectingly, bringing  up  on  a  great  stone  platform  hov- 
ering, as  it  seemed,  over  thirty  feet  or  so  of  nothingness, 
and  where  the  wily  element  disported  itself  in  an  ecstacy 
of  freedom,  shooting  out  like  a  huge  fan  and  finally 
dropping  straight  down,  assuming  the  shape  and  appear- 
ance of  an  inverted  bowl.  There  are  no  drouths  in  the 
"snow  mountains" ;  therefore  the  fan  always  remains, 
perpetually  shifting,  yet,  to  the  eye,  identically  the  same. 

The  road  took  us  into  many  a  corner,  made  many 
seemingly  purposeless  twists  and  turns,  dropped  into 
hidden  crevices,  but  never  lost  itself,  always  finding  a 
way  out.  Its  general  trend  took  it  downward,  but  there 
were  times  when  we  had  to  follow  it  back  over  long 
stretches  and  practically  retrace  our  steps  to  avoid  this 
or  that  obstruction,  or  to  attain  the  proper  inclines.  To 


Il6  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

us  who  were  in  a  hurry  it  was  aggravating  in  the  ex- 
treme to  see  the  road  we  had  covered  actually  reaching 
out  much  nearer  our  destination  than  the  part  we  were 
now  on.  But  this  is  of  necessity  the  way  with  moun- 
tain roads,  and  those  who  do  not  like  them  need  not  take 
them,  or,  if  they  prefer,  they  may  avail  themselves  of  a 
short-cut  down  the  mountain  side,  if  they  have  the 
temerity  to  do  so. 

By  and  by  we  met  with  houses ;  sometimes  we  would 
run  into  clusters  of  buildings  where  we  thought  it  a 
wonder  that  the  road  could  get  past  without  bumping 
into  them.  This  was  a  survival  of  the  old-fashioned 
way  of  building  in  groups,  several  families  near  together, 
to  temper  the  fierce  blasts  of  wind  and  to  prevent  the 
complete  isolation  of  separate  dwellings  by  heavy  snow- 
falls. The  road  being  a  comparatively  modern  innova- 
tion, we  noted  where  it  had  nosed  its  way  between  the 
very  "stabur"  (store  house)  and  dwelling,  forcing  the 
housewife  to  cross  it  each  time  she  needed  household 
supplies,  be  it  of  large  amount  or  little.  We  took  peeps 
into  the  very  pantry  windows,  and  into  the  living  rooms, 
it  being  impossible  to  dispose  of  our  faces  so  that  the 
eyes  did  not  accidentally  get  a  passing  glimpse  of  the 
most  intimate  scenes.  We  could  have  laid  our  hands 
on  the  crown  of  the  venerable  grandfather  as  he  sat  by 
the  open  window  sipping  his  afternoon  coffee,  or  pe- 
rusing his  book  of  prayer.  The  housewife  busy  by  her 
doorstep  moved  cheerfully  out  of  our  way,  and  her 
train  of  toddlers  followed  her  lead,  silently  and  good- 
naturedly.  The  man  of  the  house  lifted  his  hat  and 
lowered  his  pipe  as  we  passed.  These  were  open- 
hearted,  trusting  folks,  quite  at  peace  with  the  world. 
They  were  not  at  all  upset  because  of  prying  eyes,  mis- 


WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAV  II? 

trusting  no  one,  and  having  themselves  nothing  to  con- 
ceal. A  peep  through  the  window  was  not  resented  in 
the  least.  Shutters  or  window-curtains  would  be  rather 
out  of  place;  but  few  would  know  why  they  were  used. 
Continuing  our  way  we  lunged  rapidly  forward, 
there  being  no  change  in  the  manner  of  our  going  till 
we  reached  a  point  where  the  district  of  Fortun  sud- 
denly burst  into  view,  one  thousand  feet  straight  below 
us.  The  road  pressed  to  the  very  brink  of  this  mighty 
declivity,  and  by  merely  tilting  our  heads  a  little  to  one 
side,  we  were  enabled  to  enjoy  the  splendid  outlook 
thus  afforded.  As  we  were  bound  thither,  all  we  lacked 
was  a  mighty  parachute  to  transport  us  hence,  easily  and 
quickly ;  but  ours  consisted  only  of  an  ordinary  umbrella, 
and  we  were  obliged  to  continue  the  serpentine  road  and 
walk  at  least  eight  times  the  crow-flying  distance.  The 
roofs  of  the  houses  directly  underneath  looked  as  if 
glued  flat  and  fast  to  their  foundations,  but  the  yards 
and  surroundings  yawned  wide,  displaying  themselves 
openly  and  much  more  completely  than  when  viewed 
sidewise.  A  given  stretch  of  territory  cannot  be  prop- 
erly seen  except  from  above.  Wherefore  we  decided 
in  favor  of  the  flying-machine. 


CHAPTER  XII 
At  Fortun  and  Beyond.     Lyster  Fjord 

E  arrived  at  Fortun  lame  and  wild-eyed,  and 
soon  learned  that  we  had  attempted  the  impos- 
sible  in  trying  to  reach  our  boat,  in  time,  on 
foot.  So.  we  entered  a  house  and  sat  down  to  a  bowl 
of  sour  milk,  ordering  meanwhile  a  willing  "skydskarl" 
(driver),  to  fetch  and  prepare  his  nag  and  kariole 
for  our  pleasure  and  convenience.  We  sat  on  ordinary 
four-legged  wooden  chairs  at  a  spacious,  large-leaved 
wooden  table  with  no  cloth,  but  clean,  where  the  bowls 
banged  and  rattled  as  we  set  them  down. 

Three  flaxen-haired  girls  of  the  family,  buxom, 
healthy  and  strong,  regarded  us  good-naturedly  as  we 
made  away  with  the  "saeter  fruit"  they  had  taken  pains 
to  fetch.  They  would  have  brought  us  pailfuls,  had 
we  desired  it,  being  most  willing  to  serve,  and  with 
seemingly  no  thought  of  reward.  Though  modest,  they 
conversed  openly  and  unaffectedly,  serenely  unconscious 
of  self.  They  did  not  seem  to  exist  for  themselves ; 
they  saw  only  us. 

They  showed  us  the  old  "peis"  with  its  yawn- 
ing chimney  long  ago  discarded  for  a  more  modern 
oven,  yet  whitewashed  and  kept  in  trim  in  loving  remem- 
brance of  services  performed  of  old.  They  told  us  that 
though  the  newer  ovens  were  constructed  so  as  to  bake 
bread  if  desired,  this  article  of  food  was  invariably 
bought  at  the  village  bakeries  instead,  the  baking  being 
there  more  satisfactorily  done  and  the  charges  reason- 

(118) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  119 

ably  low.  Wholesome,  well-seasoned  rye-bread  is  gen- 
erally used,  while  white  bread  is  not  commonly  offered, 
being  usually  seen  only  at  feasts,  weddings,  and  other 
festivities.  Flat-bread  and  large,  round  potato  cakes 
rolled  thin,  are  baked  on  top  of  the  stove  and  are  used 
in  large  quantities.  These  are  very  appetizing,  especially 
the  flat-bread,  which  is  as  thin  as  paper  and  as  dry  as 
dust,  and  may  be  munched  all  day  long  if  one  so 
chooses.  Broken  into  small  pieces  and  dropped  into  a 
bowl  of  sour  milk,  this  makes  the  most  delectable  fare 
— "sodle"  it  is  called  —  which,  if  regularity  indulged  in, 
would  cure  the  most  carefully  coddled  case  of  dyspepsia 
known.  "Kringla"  is  a  delicacy  mainly  intended  to  go 
with  a  lump  of  sugar,  and  the  after-dinner  coffee.  The 
"kringla"  are  nice  to  bite  into  if  the  ingredients  possess 
a  fair  degree  of  richness,  but  if  made  only  of  flour  and 
water  they  are  to  the  touch  and  taste  somewhat  like 
year-old  willow  sprouts.  They  are  made  like  the  figure 
8,  from  strings  of  dough,  half  an  inch  in  thickness. 

.Our  good  hostesses  would  fain  have  entertained  us 
longer,  but  the  master  of  the  house  appearing  we  learned 
that  we  had  no  time  to  linger,  and  so  we  clambered  into 
the  swaying  kariole,  saluted  the  fair  ones,  and  off  we 
sped.  Our  driver  sat  behind  on  a  small  seat  higher  than 
our  own,  holding  the  reins  between  us,  thus  dividing 
us  into  two  clearly  separate  units.  As  we  were  mere 
men  such  interference  did  not  matter,  but  I  have  known 
of  cases  where  "he"  or  "she",  or  both,  found  this  "line" 
of  division  irksome.  Sometimes  the  driver  would  lift 
the  reins  to  swat  the  flank  of  the  diminutive  horse  in 
front,  but  would  invariably  miss  the  mark  and  hit  me 
on  the  shoulder  instead.  At  other  times  the  reins  would 
slyly  fondle  the  rim  of  my  hat,  but,  luckily,  never 


I2O  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

roughly  so  as  to  dislodge  it.  It  kept  me  uneasy,  how- 
ever. Once  in  a  while  our  Jehu  would  suddenly  say 
"br-r-r"  right  in  my  ear,  startling  me  and  my  companion 
very  much,  but  not  the  horse,  for  he  liked  that  sound ; 
translated  into  English  it  means  "whoa".  He  did  not 
say  "gid-ap,"  but  smacked  his  lips  and  chirruped  as  we 
do,  all  of  which  impressed  us  promptly,  but  seemed  to 
travel  a  mile  before  it  struck  those  ears  for  which  it 
was  intended. 

We  were  now  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley  and  quite 
near  sea-level,  as  was  evident  from  the  placid  flow  of 
the  stream,  Dale-eleven,  which  had  tired  of  its  pranks 
and  was  now  sleepily  advancing  towards  its  bed,  Sogne- 
fjord,  not  far  distant.  We  kept  it  company,  remaining 
by  its  side  all  the  way  till  we  reached  its  very  mouth. 
It  took  naps  in  little  lakes  where  it  had  widened  out  for 
that  purpose,  running  always  a  little  swifter  as,  re- 
freshed from  its  siesta,  it  emerged  rippling  at  the  outlet. 
There  were  meadows  and  grain-fields  near  its  banks, 
and  in  places  wooded  tracts,  where  in  certain  spots  grew 
"older"  trees  (elder)  which  at  this  season  were  being 
stripped  for  feed.  It  was  tied  in  bundles,  stacked  up 
to  dry,  and  later  gathered  and  stored  for  winter  use. 
The  grain  was  strung  on  high  poles,  each  bundle  being 
speared  through  the  heart  as  it  was  pressed  downward  in 
proper  succession,  manipulated  by  one  stationed  on  a 
conveniently  placed,  portable  scaffold.  At  twilight  these 
poles  clad  in  their  yellow  armor,  readily  formed  an 
imaginary  battalion  of  venerable  ghosts  drawn  up  in 
soldierly  line,  ready  for  the  march. 

Our  driver  took  us  under  an  over-hanging  spur  of 
the  mountain  where  the  river  had  left  us  no  other  lee- 
way, but  we  were  glad  when  we  were  out  again,  for 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


121 


we  calculated  that  it  might  as  reasonably  take  a  drop 
while  we  were  there  as  at  any  other  time,  all  things 
considered.  Such  useless  speculation  is  the  twin  brother 
of  worry,  yet  who  has  not  indulged  in  kindred  fancies, 
let  us  say  on  trains,  steamships,  automobiles  and  merry- 
go-rounds?  By  and  by  we  passed  a  large,  cleared  field 
which  was  so  extensive,  flat  and  unbroken,  that  all  at 


Photo  by  Wilse,  Kristiania. 
"Battalion  of  venerable  ghosts." 

once  it  was  as  if  I  saw  myself  back  home  in  the  West 
when  I  gazed,  suddenly  grown  homesick,  about  me ;  but 
the  ever-present  mountain  peaks  soon  dispelled  the  illu- 
sion. How  delightful,  though,  if  the  prettiest  peak  could 
have  been  transplanted  to  some  cornfield  at  home,  to 
make  variety !  Yet  here  where  the  combination  showed 
itself  perfect  I  had  just  been  overtaken  by  a  certain 
feeling  of  discontent.  Exactly  when  and  where  might 
one  happen  to  be  perfectly  pleased? 


122  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

That  we  should  run  into  the  biggest  of  ice-houses 
was  a  surprise  in  store  for  us  at  just  this  moment ;  we 
were  truly  startled  by  its  unexpectedness  and  its  im- 
mensity. It  stood  near  the  edge  of  the  river  and  only 
a  short  distance  from  where  it  entered  the  sea.  So 
this  was  to  be  the  fate  of  the  gushing,  bounding  element, 
the  companion  of  our  day's  journey,  some  day  to  be 
congealed  into  ice-crusts  and  then  sawed  asunder  to  be 
stored  away  in  gloam  and  darkness,  and  eventually  to 
be  shipped  to  Germany  or  elsewhere  to  do  service  in 
butcher-shops,  saloons,  restaurants,  hotels,  or  dwellings. 

We  had  now  arrived  at  Skjolden,  at  the  very  top 
of  the  mighty  Sognefjord.  My  very  first  errand  was 
to  send  my  camera  by  parcel-post  to  a  developer  in 
Bergen  and  thus  be  rid  of  this  everlasting  drag.  I 
searched  for  a  carpenter  to  make  a  suitable  case  for  it, 
wasting  as  much  time  and  quite  as  much  thought  as 
frequently  when  engaged  in  vastly  more  important  busi- 
ness. I  found  both  the  carpenter  and  the  postmaster 
expeditious  and  willing  to  serve,  and  I  learned  again  the 
lesson  of  one's  dependence  upon  others,  and  of  how 
very  difficult  the  path  without  friendly  co-operation.  I 
have  often  been  surprised,  and  not  the  least  during  my 
travels,  to  discover  how  much  mere  money  can  be  made 
to  accomplish,  but  oftener  still  have  I  been  most  happy 
to  note  the  numerous  splendid  things  —  beautiful  human 
traits,  for  instance  —  that  reach  and  benefit  us  without 
the  spur  of  gold.  That  postmaster's  unbought  smile, 
and  the  pretty  string  with  which  he  helped  me  do  up 
my  package,  quite  won  my  heart.  It  enabled  me  to  go 
about  with  a  fairly  cheerful  face  for  a  long  time. 

Happily  rid  of  the  camera,  I  looked  about  among 
the  little  cluster  of  buildings  for  a  store,  feeling  already 


WALKING  TRIPS   IN    NORWAY  123 

Somewhat  unoccupied  and  in  want  of  something  to  carry. 
Finally  I  decided  to  buy  some  crackers  and  cheese.  The 
cheese  is  perfection,  the  crackers  round  like  a  dollar, 
toothsome,  and  done  up  handily  in  cylindrical  packages 
just  right  for  the  coat-pocket.  These  crackers,  eaten 
with  an  occasional  bite  of  cheese,  make  a  capital  lunch 
aboard  the  steamer  and  even  sometimes  on  the  march. 

Entering  the  store,  I  found  the  interior  rather  dark 
and  gloomy,  its  contents  of  a  varied  description  and 
somewhat  intermixed  and  scattered.  The  merchant  was 
much  relieved  when  his  customers  were  able  to  discover 
what  they  wanted  for  themselves,  he  having  forgotten 
in  which  particular  corner  the  desired  commodity  had 
hidden  itself.  He  was  pleasant  and  kind,  but  seemed 
happiest  when  no  one  disturbed  him.  He  could  be  made 
to  sell  an  article  if  it  was  necessary,  but  his  demeanor 
mutely  advised  against  further  purchase.  His  customers 
gave  the  impression  of  being  mere  desultory  callers  who 
bought  this  or  that  only  to  relieve  the  monotomy.  Hence 
there  was  no  hurry  or  friction  in  the  rather  topsy-turvy 
looking  establishment.  All  went  away  satisfied  and  per- 
fectly pleased  with  the  whole  arrangement.  Such  is 
the  atmosphere  in  a  great  many  of  the  country  stores 
in  Norway. 

The  steamer  shuffled  up  to  the  pier  as  if  it  actually 
had  business  there,  the  crew  stood  sternly  at  attention, 
and  if  the  captain  succeeded  in  doing  nothing-else,  his 
demeanor  gave  warning  that  it  was  he  that  held  com- 
mand, and  no  other.  There  is,  perhaps,  more  of  an  air 
of  worthy  officiousness  about  European  officials,  than 
with  us.  It  is  quite  evident  that  their  orders  are  expected 
to  be  obeyed  and  that  their  presence  is  supposed  to  over- 
awe mere  plain  men.  Their  rigid  adherence  to  rules 


124  WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY 

of  duty  is,  however,  their  main  characteristic,  and  lifts 
them  above  petty  criticism.  The  sailors  seem  to  have 
surrendered  somewhat  of  their  individuality,  being 
rather  more  subdued-looking,  and  more  easily  led  than 
our  confident,  self-assertive  tars.  The  Norwegian  sailor 
has  always  been  at  a  premium  among  sea- faring  men. 
Of  late  years,  however,  the  drink  evil  has  shown  up 
among  them  to  no  inconsiderable  extent. 

The  wharf  was  lined  with  what  appeared  for  the 
most  part  to  be  curious  lookers-on,  who  seemed  placed 
precisely  just  where  they  wanted  to  be,  all  having  a 
supremely  satisfied  and  contented  look.  Girls  with  gaily 
wrought  plaids  about  their  heads  gazed  serenely  upon 
us  quite  unabashed,  yet  not  uncomprehendingly.  Their 
healthy  young  faces  gave  token  of  sane  living.  There 
is  no  affectation  or  prudishness  apparent.  Their  speech 
and  action  is  free,  but  not  rude.  A  great  many  of  the 
boys  excel  in  the  art  of  tobacco-spitting.  They  carry 
long,  black  rolls  of  the  poison-charged  stuff  in  their 
pockets,  strong  enough  in  quality  to  capsize  a  steer. 
They  eject  a  steady  stream  of  black  filthiness,  letting  it 
fly  rather  indiscriminately  about.  The  girls  do  well  to 
keep  beyond  the  range  of  the  discharges.  They  are  not 
over-gallant  towards  the  gentler  sex  and  expect  to  re- 
ceive, rather  than  to  extend,  favors.  A  good  many  af- 
fect a  cumbrous,  slouching  gait,  particularly  the  sea- 
going ones,  appearing  when  in  motion  as  if  wrongly 
ballasted.  They  are  as  a  rule  well  built,  but  do  not  al- 
ways make  graceful  cavaliers.  But  for  all  this  they  are 
capable,  strong  and  agile,  and  perform  the  "halling-kast" 
(an  athletic  feat),  and  similar  "stunts"  with  surprising 
cleverness  and  ease.  They  are  of  the  unassertive  kind 
whose  performance  commonly  exceeds  their  promise. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  125 

Having  boarded  the  steamer,  I  sat  on  a  forward 
bench,  a  close  companion  to  the  anchor  chains,  regard- 
ing with  much  interest  the  prow  of  the  boat  as  it  bore 
down  upon  the  unsullied  bosom  of  the  glossy  fjord,  fling- 
ing the  fragments  of  the  broken  surface  right  and  left, 
and  churning  the  mass  beneath  and  aft  into  a  very 
maelstrom  of  angry,  turbulent  matter.  I  made  enquiries 
of  the  local  passengers  about  this  or  that  point,  but 
found  out  little,  the  rural  population  not  generally  being 
much  interested  in  water-falls,  glaciers  and  other  fea- 
tures of  the  landscape.  They  were  very  much  like  the 
majority  of  us  in  that  what  we  may  have  the  privilege 
of  seeing  every  day,  we  pass'by  thoughtlessly.  But  to 
me  it  mattered  little,  for  whether  this  drift  or  that  valley 
carried  such  queer-sounding  appellations  as  Justedalsbra 
or  Marifjaren,  the  mere  knowledge  of  the  names  added 
nothing  to  and  took  nothing  from  the  magic  spell  of 
grandeur  they  cast  about  them.  I  prefer  to  have  my 
scenery  left  largely  unexplained;  thus  I  receive  its  mes- 
sage direct  and  create  my  own  impressions  unmarred  by 
outside  influence. 

A  pretty  sanatorium  sat  daintily  perched  at  a  con- 
siderable height  up  the  mountain-side  as  we  passed 
Lyster,  and  midst  such  a  setting  no  doubt  provided  a 
most  agreeable  place  of  sojourn  for  those  needing 
healing  and  recuperation.  As  a  cure  is  largely  dependent 
on  the  condition  of  the  mind  in  the  majority  of  ailments, 
it  would  seem  that  such  a  lovely  spot,  hidden  from  the 
stress  and  strife  of  our  various  activities,  would  be  the 
ideal  place  to  calm  and  restore  the  spirit.  There  were 
opportunities  to  climb  or  to  row,  to  fish  or  to  loaf,  to 
visit  or  to  enjoy  seclusion,  to  eat  or  to  refrain  from 
eating,  to  bathe  or  not  to  bathe,  and  so  on,  whatever 


126  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

might  be  the  whim  of  the  patient,  tempered  by  orders 
from  the  doctor.  Personally  I  should  prefer  to  be  sick 
among  healthy  people  rather  than  be  constantly  re- 
minded of  myself  through  others  suffering  from  similar 
affliction.  But  there  are  two  sides  to  this  question,  the 
well  ones  also  having  the  privilege  of  preferment,  they 
naturally  favoring  segregation  for  the  sick. 

But  very  few  things  happened  as  we  slid  noiselessly 
along,  leaving  but  a  veil  of  smoke  hanging  listlessly 
above,  and  a  ripple  or  two  beneath,  to  caress  the  reced- 
ing shores.  The  mountains  added  no  disturbing  element, 
as  they  reared  themselves  in  majesty  only  to  regard 
themselves  unmoved  in  fhe  glossy  bosom  of  the  deep. 
Little  boats,  seemingly  all  oars,  dropped  into  view, 
gesticulated  a  while  as  we  passed,  but  soon  disappeared, 
slipping  silently  and  unobtrusively  away. 

At  each  stopping-place  the  quays  were  thronged 
with  people,  and  I,  for  one,  expected  we  should  do  a 
rushing  business  in  the  taking  on  of  new  passengers ; 
but  when  we  steamed  away  the  size  of  the  crowds  re- 
mained much  the  same.  Perhaps  the  exchange  of  pas- 
sengers was  so  remarkably  even  that  it  was  not  possible 
to  note  any  difference ;  be  that  as  it  may,  I  am  convinced 
that  there  must  have  been  a  vast  army  of  idlers,  busy 
with  looking,  and  nothing  else. 

At  Solvorn  a  bevy  of  half-grown  girls  came  troop- 
ing on  board,  each  with  her  little  basket  of  berries,  which 
they  hoped  quickly  to  dispose  of  among  the  passengers 
during  the  short  stop.  One  little  homely  thing  had  no 
success ;  ho  one  wanted  to  buy  her  wares.  Noting  how 
forlorn  she  was,  and  how  wistful  her  look,  I  was  moved 
to  buy  a  few  pennies'  worth,  just  for  her  sake  and  with 
no  thought  of  the  purchase.  I  may  have  spoken  kindly 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  12.J 

to  her,  I  do  not  know ;  but  just  before  the  steamer 
started,  she  spied  me  and  came  running  to  make  me  a 
gift  of  what  remained  unsold  in  her  basket.  It  affected 
me  deeply,  and  I  bore  with  me  throughout  that  wonder- 
ful night  a  touch  as  from  the  great  source  of  infinite 
love,  revealed  through  this  lowly,  sweet-natured  being 
casually  coming  in  my  way. 

As  I  sat  musing  in  the  dusk  my  attention  was 
suddenly  drawn  to  a  loud-mouthed  person  who  spoke 
Norwegian,  but  mixed  his  speech  with  "well,"  "yes- 
sair,"  "nos-sair,"  "dat's  right,"  sure  ting,"  etc.  I  over- 
heard him  several  times  saying  the  word  "bank,"  but 
whether  he  meant  to  convey  one  of  its  Norwegian  mean- 
ings, which  is  equivalent  to  a  "licking",  or  whether  he 
referred  to  a  banking  institution,  it  was  some  time  be- 
fore I  could  decide.  But  when  I  caught  the  words 
"swindla"  and  "busta,"  Norwegian-American  expres- 
sions coined  from  the  English  "swindled"  and  "busted," 
I  knew  that  he  meant  an  ordinary  money  bank,  and  for 
which  the  English  and  Norwegians  use  identically  the 
same  term. 

Here  was  a  compatriot,  and  I  must  play  the  honest 
eavesdropper  and  learn  if  there  was  possibly  a  grain 
of  truth  in  the  generally  accepted  theory  that  the  ma- 
jority of  Norwegian-Americans  who  return  to  Norway 
for  a  visit,  are  prone  to  be  boastful.  Our  good  citizen 
spoke  up  and  said :  "Yas"  that  bank  "busta,"  but  I 
wasn't  "catena"  in  it  "it  ol."  Many  of  the  "closaste 
friendso"  I  have  "putta  in  lats  a  monnie"  and  it  was 
"ofel"  how  they  were  "bitta."  "Lats"  of  them  couldn't 
"veri  vel"  "forda"  to  "loosa"  as  much  as  they  did. 
Some  "loosa  croppen"  on  top  of  it  all.  Pretty  "toughe" 
times  for  "farmaren"  that  "sec'n,"  "Baat"  it  is  seldom 


128  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

it  is  as  "bed"  as  that.  "Yinnerly"  we  "maka"  "monnie" 
in  a  "h0ri"  and  "gitta  long  gud."  We  "digga  in"  and 
"putta"  in  time  "Ai  tell  yu."  New  comers  and  "evri- 
boddy"  must  go  to  "v0rk"  if  they  "expecta"  to  "maka" 
any  "headvay."  We  "givva"  very  little  for  loaferar." 
It  is  thirty  years  since  I  "commenca"  to  "rustla"  down 
there  in  Illinois,  and  it  hasn't  been  "play"  to  "scratcha" 
together  the  "akero"  I  have.  My  "farm"  of  two  "quar- 
terar"  is  "situata"  in  as  good  "section"  of  "contrie"  as 
can  be  found  wherever  you  "travla."  If  I  had  "staya 
in  Norway  I  "sposa"  I  wouldnt  have  "mounta"  to  any- 
thing of  "count."  * 

How  his  listeners  could  manage  to  deduce  any 
meaning  from  this  "lapskaus"  (Norwegian  stew)  I  am 
not  in  a  position  to  know,  nor  how  they  felt  when  with 
a  self-satisfied  air  he  told  of  his  Eldorado,  making  his 
native  heath  look  bleak  and  barren  by  comparison. 

*  In  the  above  the  pure  Norwegian  is  rendered  into  Eng- 
lish, with  the  coined  words  in  quotation  marks.  The  following 
is  a  verbatim  report  of  what  he  actually  spoke,  word  for  word, 
in  his  so-called  Norwegian :  "Yas  den  banken  busta  men  eg 
va  che  catcha  i  de  it  ol.  Maange  af  dei  closaste  friendso 
eg  har  putta  in  lats  a  monnie  aa  de  va  ofel  kolsen  dei  blei 
bitta.  Lats  af  di  konne  che  veri  vel  forda  te  loosa  saa  m«/>che 
saa  di  jore.  Somme  loosa  croppen  paa  toppen  af  alt.  Tem- 
melige  toughe  tier  for  farmaren  den  sec'n.  Baat  de  a  sjelden 
de  a  saa  bed  saa  de.  Yinnerly  saa  maka  me  monnie  i  ein 
h^ri  og  gitta  long  gud.  Me  digga  in  aa  putta  in  time  Ai  tel 
yu.  Nykommarar  aa  evribody  maa  gaa  te  vork  vist  de  expec- 
ta te  make  naake  headvay.  Me  giv\a  svart  lite  i<j>r  loaferar. 
De  a  tredive  aar  si  eg  commenca  te  rustla  der  nere  i  Illinois 
aa  de  ha  che  vore  play  te  scratcha  ihop  dei  akero  eg  har. 
Farmen  min  af  to  kvarterar  a  situata  i  saa  go  section  af 
countrie  saa  kan  finnast  kor  du  travla.  Hadde  eg  staya  i 
Norge  saa  sposa  eg  atte  eg  hadde  che  mounta  te  naake  af 
count." 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  I2Q 

Some  of  our  good  citizens  think  only  about  Amer- 
ica when  they  visit  Norway.  Everything  they  chance 
to  see  reminds  them  of  something  better  at  home,  and 
they  must  needs  blurt  it  out  for  the  benefit  of  those 
whom  they  are  visiting.  Their  continued  comparisons 
are  utterly  odious  and  out  of  place.  Such  blunderers 
partly  spoil  the  territory  for  the  more  modest  folk  who 
have  come  out  to  enjoy  what  they  may,  and  of  whom 
there  are,  luckily,  a  considerable  number  also  among 
Americans.  A  true  tourist  allows  each  section  to  retain 
its  own  particular  individuality  without  unduly  declaim- 
ing against  it  and  proclaiming  which  is  the  better  or  the 
worse.  The  people  have  come  to  regard  us  more  quiz- 
zically than  of  yore.  They  make  their  own  deductions 
about  the  many  acres,  the  great  crops,  the  money-mak- 
ing, and  our  other  astounding  capacities  and  propen- 
sities ;  but  they  are  often  mistaken  enough.  It  is  not 
to  be  expected  from  the  often  rather  distorted  and  con- 
flicting data  within  their  reach,  that  they  should  be  able 
to  fix  us  aright.  The  bare  truth  about  our  wonderful 
America  is  unbelievable  enough  to  Europeans  without 
being  dressed  up  or  embroidered. 

Sogn  is  not  known  exclusively  for  its  scenery,  there 
being  considerable  interest  in  fruit-raising,  apples  being 
the  more  common.  Various  kinds  of  berries,  such  as 
strawberries,  gooseberries  and  blueberries  abound.  The 
ordinary  Norwegian  grain  crops  are  also  raised  with 
good  success. 

The  imperceptible  shifting  from  daylight  to  twilight, 
from  twilight  to  the  pale  night  shadows,  took  place  so 
very  gradually  that  we  hardly  noticed  it.  The  mountains 
rose  majestically  straight  from  the  sea,  from  now  on, 
providing  no  accommodating  ledges  for  dwellings  for 
9 


I3O  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

men,  or  any  source  of  subsistence  for  man  or  beast. 
The  water  had  put  on  a  coverlet  of  much  deeper  dye 
for  the  night,  and  lay  in  perfect  repose,  undisturbed, 
save  for  an  inquisitive  fish  peering  through  or  hitting  the 
sleeping  surface  with  its  wriggling  tail.  A  few  water- 
fowl swam  in  it,  but  their  feathery  down  lay  so  gently 
upon  its  breast  that  it  was  not  roused  from  its  nap.  All 
had  grown  still  upon  deck,  there  was  nothing  in  sea, 
earth  or  heaven  to  cause  distraction,  and  I  remained 
spellbound,  hypnotized,  by  the  sublime  grandeur  of  the 
hills,  and  wrapt  in  foolish  ecstasy  by  the  mysterious 
Voice  of  Silence,  breathing  happy  promise  to  my  heart 
and  soul. 

We  glided  into  port  at  midnight ;  and  what  did  I 
do  but  press  my  purse  closer?  For  might  not  the 
shadow  of  Norway's  most  notorious  thief,  Gjest  Baard- 
son,  haunt  the  place  still,  with  a  predilection  for  un- 
guarded personal  possessions  of  whatever  sort?  Gjest 
has  become  a  national  figure  inasmuch  as  he  stole  from 
the  rich  and  gave  to  the  poor,  being  pursued  by  both. 

Lardals0ren  sits  pent  up  between  high  mountain? 
at  the  very  bottom  of  a  fjord.  The  landing-place  was 
half  a  mile  from  the  town  proper,  and  this  distance  I 
stealthily  covered,  purse-strings  clutched  tight,  before  I 
could  engage  in  the  hotel-hunt.  I  was  promptly  turned 
away  wherever  I  applied  for  lodging,  the  sleepy  hosts 
telling  me  they  were  full,  and  unanimously  declaring 
that  they  had  nowhere  to  sleep  themselves.  It  was  a 
serious  enough  situation  for  me,  for  I  needed  rest,  but 
it  was  exasperating  to  see  how  little  any  one  cared 
whether  I  got  it  or  not.  Usually  at  hotels  one  receives 
the  impression  that  he  has  been  expected  a  long  time, 
but  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  this  is  solely  because 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  13! 

they  are  not  full.  For  when  that  is  the  case,  such  con- 
cern ceases.  A  half -policeman  finally  took  me  in  tow 
and  led  me  unresistingly  to  an  old  widow  where,  at 
last,  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  very  short  bed  and  a 
room  with  a  previous,  snoring  occupant  for  company. 
In  my  inmost  soul  I  disliked  this  raucous,  grinding  music, 
but  dared  not  remonstrate  for  fear  of  receiving  an  in- 
vitation back  to  the  street.  The  awful  noise  pursues 
one  into  the  very  land  of  Nod  and  acts  upon  one  like 
the  sleep-numbed  pain  of  a  boil  or  felon,  only  to  burst 
with  renewed  force  upon  your  consciousness  when  this 
thrusts  you  wide-eyed  and  open-eared  into  full  and 
complete  realization  of  the  surroundings.  If  it  had  not 
been  for  the  stupor  of  sleep  that  ever  and  anon  made 
a  feint  of  returning,  I  should,  no  doubt,  have  taken  proper 
revenge.  Many  a  man  has  escaped  bodily  injury  dur- 
ing his  most  active  snoring  spells  because  of  the  las- 
situde, or  lethargy  preceding  sleep,  which  restrains  his 
ill-used  companions  from  exerting  themselves.  The  next 
morning  is  your  time,  but  the  offender  usually  looks  so 
rested,  sweet  and  pleasant  that  you  have  not  the 
heart  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  and  if  you  did  he 
would  only  smile  at  you  and  say  it  was  all  imagination, 
he  never  having  snored  in  all  his  life. 

At  breakfast  I  met  the  kindliest  mannered  fellow 
in  the  kingdom  eating  eggs  and  animatedly  conversing 
with  the  old  landlady ;  and  of  the  two  of  us  I  am  sure 
any  fair-minded  person  would  have  suspected  me  of  be- 
ing the  sleep-disturber,  not  he.  The  wretch  had  the 
effrontery  to  greet  me  most  effusively,  rose  to  offer  me 
his  chair,  and  the  old  widow  catching  the  contagion 
ambled  hurriedly  into  the  kitchen  to  prepare  me  an  egg 
and  a  bowl  of  milk,  kind  as  could  be.  How  was  I  then, 


132  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

under  the  circumstances,  to  nurse  my  wrath  and  continue 
to  feel  sore  and  misused,  even  though  the  provocation  had 
been  very  great. 

Together  with  the  milk  and  bread  and  the  solitary 
egg,  the  widow  fetched  with  her,  also,  another  man 
with  a  grievance.  Mine  was  left  unspoken,  but  the  new- 
comer did  not  withhold  his.  I  soon  saw  myself  as  I 
might  have  been,  and  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  feeling 
of  thankfulness  when  I  realized  what  I  had  escaped. 
He  poured  out  his  tale  ungarnished  and  unvarnished, 
but  quite  without  benefit  to  any  one,  himself  included. 
It  appeared  that  the  "confounded"  automobile  was  tak- 
ing away  his  business  as  kariole-driver,  and  he  had  now 
adopted  certain  defensive  tactics,  though  quite  futile,  to 
be  sure  —  namely,  the  old  method  of  carrying  grudges 
and  airing  grievances,  the  time-tested  earmarks  of  un- 
worthy defeat.  Instead  of  adjusting  himself  amicably 
and  as  well  as  might  be  to  the  newer,  inevitable  condi- 
tions, he  preferred  to  drone  around  and  "knock."  I 
made  free  to  offer  advice  from  my  "fulness  of  ex- 
perience," taking  as  an  example  a  snoring  man,  saying: 
"Since  we  cannot  change  the  method  of  sleep,  and  do 
away  with  the  snore,  we  shall  either  have  to  adapt  our- 
selves to  it  or  enter  a  hermit's  tell,  or  betake  ourselves 
to  a  lonely  island.  And  so  with  the  auto:  it  has  come 
to  stay,  with  or  without  our  permission,  and  we  may 
as  well  embrace  it,  and  stay  with  it.  The  less  we  buck 
against  the  inevitable,  the  more  strength  we  conserve 
with  which  to  accustom  ourselves  to  the  different  order 
of  things."  Of  course  he  decided  to  live,  according  to 
my  advice ;  people  always  do ;  I  therefore  confidently 
expect  to  see  him  enrolled  as  a  chauffeur  the  next  time  I 
visit  his  town. 


Nar0fjord 

TSAW  but  little  besides  the  breakfast  table  at  Lar- 
dals^ren,  for  the  steamer  bound  for  Gudvangen 
left  early  in  the  morning,  and  there  was  no  time 
for  me  to  go  gadding  about  if  I  was  to  be  one  of  its 
passengers.  The  day  was  as  beautiful  as  heart  could 
wish,  and  I  sat  on  deck  close  to  the  anchor-chain  drink- 
ing in  every  available  sight  and  scene.  The  mountains 
were  too  precipitous  and  bare  to  be  so  very  beautiful 
in  themselves,  but  the  general  effect  was  extremely 
grand.  When  we  entered  the  famous,  Nar0fjord  the 
remarkable  surroundings  thrilled  me  with  a  delight  so 
keen  that  mere  words  can  convey  no  adequate  expres- 
sion. The  rugged  hills,  the  placid  water,  the  clean 
snow-fields  and  glistening  glaciers,  together  with  the 
lovely  hue  of  the  heavens,  combined  to  produce  an  effect 
that  spoke  volumes  to  the  soul ;  and  as  soul  language  is 
not  printable,  we  render  our  sensations  but  inadequately 
in  a  written  account. 

The  narrowness  of  this  fjord  was  actually  alarm- 
ing, for  time  after  time  I  thought  we  must  assuredly 
become  wedged  fast,  and  perhaps  even  sink,  for  to  the 
depth  there  seemed  to  be  no  limit,  the  water  looking 
black  and  bottomless  and  the  mountains  dropping  sheer 
on  either  side.  At  times  we  seemed  completely  locked 
in,  and  I  could  no  more  tell  through  what  wall  we  had 
entered  than  at  what  bank  the  wizard  at  the  helm  ex- 
pected to  point  and  say  his  Open  Sesame. 

(133) 


134  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

The  joy  of  discovery  was  continually  with  me,  for 
I  came  upon  something  new  and  unlocked  for  at  every 
bend  and  turn;  and  though  it  had  already  been  seen  by 
others,  it  had  lost  none  of  its  charm  because  of  that. 
A  grand  mountain,  a  lovely  waterfall,  or  a  beautiful  star 
should  appear  equally  attractive  whether  it  has  pre- 
viously had  other  admirers,  or  none  at  all.  I  love  to 
view  a  pretty  thing  for  its  own  sake,  hence  have  no 
objection  to  taking  the  "beaten  path"  if  it  otherwise  suits 
my  fancy.  The  fjords  or  mountains  cannot  be  spoiled 
by  a  fervently-admiring  gaze :  the  Coliseum  does  not 
shift  or  crumble  under  the  visitor's  appreciative  contem- 
plation. Narjzifjord  has  drawn  hosts  of  visitors  every 
year,  but  none  of  its  charms  have  been  looked  away, 
nor  has  the  valley  of  the  same  name  grown  less  won- 
derful. I  know,  for  several  years  ago  I  looked  upon  it 
from  its  opposite  end,  and  still  it  remains  intact  for  all 
of  the  million  eyes  that  have  since  devoured  it.  Within 
the  Nar0  valley  as  viewed  from  Stalheims  hotel,  and 
also  further  along,  is  comprised  one  of  the  most  won- 
derful nature  displays  in  the  world;  the  adjacent  Nar0- 
fjord  adds  peculiar  lustre  of  its  own.  A  wonderful 
scene,  like  a  beautiful  melody,  must  be  allowed  to  act 
directly  upon  our  consciousness ;  its  message  cannot 
reach  us  through  hearsay ;  hence  description  avails  little, 
wherefore  I  refrain  from  further  attempts  to  describe 
the  indescribable. 

Many  have  calculated  that  there  must  of  a  surety 
be  something  of  material  value  somewhere  about  these 
mountains;  and  if  not  altogether  on  the  outside,  then 
why  not  inside  ?  Norwegian  miners  discovered  long  ago, 
however,  that  the  various  ores,  though  occurring  numer- 
ously enough,  are  usually  not  rich,  and  hence  not  gen- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  135 

erally  profitable.  There  are  iron,  gold,  silver,  cobalt, 
zinc  and  copper  mines,  but  only  a  few  have  yielded 
appreciable  returns.  Certain  kinds  of  marketable  stone 
especially  slate  and  an  inferior  marble,  have  been  found 
in  large  quantities  and  have  been  quarried  with  consid- 
erable profit.  Of  quarried  stone,  granite  and  syenite 
come  next  in  importance.  The  loftier  mountains  con- 
sist nearly  altogether  of  gneiss  and  mica-slate.  The 
almost  unlimited  waterpower  of  Norway  now  being 
gradually  subdued  and  harnessed  will,  when  more  fully 
utilized,  make  more  profitable  the  working  of  scattered 
ores,  as  well  as  giving  additional  impetus  to  mining 
operations  in  general. 

There  were  boats  galore  lying  at  anchor  near  Gud- 
vangen,  the  little  village  planted  at  the  extreme  end  of 
the  fjord.  Many  of  the  rocks  and  boulders  were  pic- 
turesquely painted  over  in  various  colors  with  the  names 
of  the  different  craft  intertwined  artistically  therein, 
making  a  striking  effect,  to  say  the  least.  Some  daring 
sailors  had  climbed,  in  some  manner  or  other,  the  sheer 
faces  of  precipices  and  inscribed  in  startling  fashion  their 
hand-writing  on  the  walls. 

The  wharves  presented  a  scene  of  liveliest  anima- 
tion as  the  blustering  little  motor-boats  danced  hither 
and  thither,  skipping  in  and  out  among  the  steamers 
lying  moored,  making  up  or  emptying  out  be-ribboned, 
gala-clad  cargoes.  There  were  ships  from  different 
parts  of  the  world;  and  here  the  kaiser's  yacht  used  to 
touch.  The  German  ruler  has  done  much  to  attract 
attention  to  the  charms  of  cruising  in  the  grand  fjords 
of  Norway.  In  commemoration  of  his  delightful  vaca- 
tion experiences,  including  trips  to  the  Northland  cov- 
ering a  period  of  twenty  years  or  more,  he  has  erected, 


136  WALKING    TRIPS    W    NORWAV 

in  Sogn,  a  mighty  statue  of  the  legendary  Fridtjof  as  a 
gift  of  appreciation,  an  expression  of  good-will  to  the 
Norwegian  people. 

Returning  I  retraced  my  course  by  the  same  steamer 
back  through  the  devious,  winding  ways  of  the  fjord, 
still  the  same,  albeit  magically  transformed  through 
altered  positions  and  points  of  view.  Though  most  suit- 
ably placed  aboard  ship  one  cannot  satisfactorily  view 
both  sides  at  once,  neither  may  one  jerk  the  head 
continually  backward  and  forward,  obtaining  fleeting 
glimpses  merely,  and  still  expect  to  retain  the  impres- 
sions. One  must  calmly  survey  a  given  point  ahead,  as 
in  a  moving  picture,  keeping  awake  to  the  steadily  shift- 
ing panorama  in  a  direct  line  of  vision,  sacrificing,  the 
while,  much  that  beckons  athwart  and  aft. 

Thus  we  came  upon  the  scenery  behind  its  back, 
approaching  it  unawares,  catching  it  in  graceful  poses 
and  in  places  quite  surpassing  its  former  loveliness. 

After  we  had  rounded  our  point  and  were  coming 
up  the  fjord  towards  Flaam,  I  saw  waterfalls  plunging 
madly  away  from  their  mountain  beds  and  gaily  flipping 
their  tails  in  the  wind,  only  to  dissipate  into  a  fine  mist 
before  finally  entering  the  water  below.  The  cascade 
would  come  falling  from  stupendous  heights,  brave  and 
unbroken  at  first,  but  the  insistent  caress  of  the  sportive 
breeze,  together  with  its  own  natural  bent  to  disintegrate 
into  drops,  soon  made  havoc  with  its  supple  body,  tear- 
ing it  into  shreds  and  fragments,  and  displaying  therein 
a  rainbow  as  beautiful  and  perfect  as  possible. 

Arrived  at  Flaam,  I  was  in  splendid  mood  for  the 
long  walk  before  me,  and  did  not  hesitate  long  as  to 
which  foot  first  to  put  forward.  I  left  the  town  to  make 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY 


138  WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY 

its  own  history,  for  I  could  not  spare  a  moment  to  make 
researches  and  write  it  up. 

I  have  so  often  looked  around  without  knowing  why, 
only  to  meet  a  pair  of  eyes  engaged  in  sizing  me  up  and 
no  doubt  responsible  for  the  subtle  influence  causing  the 
involuntary  turn,  that  I  was  not  altogether  surprised 
when  I  found  myself  thus  unexpectedly  gazing  into  the 
eyes  of  my  Juvas-hut  acquaintance,  Prof.  Dr.  Hamel 
from  Amsterdam.  He  stood  with  his  knapsack  in  read- 
iness, being  on  the  eve  of  departure  by  my  own  route  — 
and  off  we  went. 

The  Flaam  valley  threatens  to  usurp  first  place, 
leaving  the  sister  valley  Nar0dal  to  look  to  its  laurels, 
meantime  growing  more  and  more  popular  every  year 
as  a  romping  place  for  tourists.  The  hotels  at  either 
end  of  it  provide  all  necessary  comforts  and  conveniences. 
The  scenery  is  grand.  The  inevitable  river  rages 
through,  as  in  all  other  valleys  adjacent  to  the  snow- 
covered  mountains.  As-the  depression  is  very  narrow 
the  road  is  hard  put  to  it  to  wedge  itself  in  between  the 
towering  cliffs  and  the  freakish  stream.  In  many  places 
it  was  actually  driven  to  lean  out  over  the  hissing, 
boisterous  torrent,  crowding  closely  upon  it  and  provid- 
ing only  a  frail  support  and  barrier  between  us  and  the 
angry  tumult  below. 

Except  a  certain  stretch  near  its  mouth,  the  valley 
is  not  populated  by  native  Norwegians ;  but  the  constant 
stream  of  tourists  furnishes  a  mixed  company  of  tran- 
sient sojourners. 

We  wended  our  way  laboriously  up  the  face  of  the 
incline,  and  in  our  painful  progress  we  were  frequently 
obliged  to  step  out  of  the  road  to  allow  the  passage  of 
those  who  rolled  without  effort  on  wheels  down  hill. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  13Q 

We  resented  being  shoved  aside  into  mud  puddles,  dust 
heaps,  rocks  and  tangled  brush,  but  could  do  nothing 
to  protect  ourselves ;  custom  was  against  us ;  the  drivers 
held  stolidly  to  the  middle  of  the  road  overlooking  us 
completely. 

The  last  snow-drift  of  the  season  sat  ensconced  in 
a  snug  retreat  in  a  crotch  in  the  mountains,  where  the 
sun  shed  its  luster  seemingly  in  vain,  overhanging  cliffs 
casting  a  perpetual  shadow.  Here  the  drift  reposed  ap- 
parently safe  from  the  onslaught  of  its  enemy  ninety 
million  miles  away ;  but  on  our  arrival  at  its  base  we  saw 
its  life  elixir  slowly  trickling  away  in  a  tiny  stream 
slyly  issuing  from  beneath.  It  was  in  the  toils  after  all, 
and  it  would  only  be  a  question  of  weeks  before  the 
entire  mass  would  be  disintegrated.  It  was  a  refreshing 
sight  for  the  dusty  traveller  to  meet  with  this  cool  body 
at  such  a  low  altitude ;  we  were  used  to  climbing  several 
thousand  feet  before  arriving  at  the  beds  of  its  sister 
drifts.  We  left  it  with  regret,  and  turned  often  to  view 
its  frilled  bosom  as  we  ascended  higher  and  higher,  and 
it  in  turn  crept  into  itself,  becoming  finally  a  mere  speck 
as  we  neared  Myrdal  station.  Here  the  road  took  a 
winding  course  to  enable  it  to  mount  gradually  the  steep 
incline  leading  to  the  railroad  that  had  climbed  from 
another  direction  into  the  heights  at  this  point.  There 
were  some  pretty  waterfalls  that  turned  our  thoughs 
from  ourselves  and  buoyed  up  our  spirits  during  the 
laborious  ascent.  The  territory  below,  though  once 
passed  through,  appeared  in  new  poses,  looking  won- 
drously  grand  as  we  paused,  ever  and  anon,  to  contem- 
plate it.  A  glimpse  of  the  valley  may  be  had  from  the 
train  if  one  keeps  a  sharp  look-out. 

We  met  many  tourists  going  down,  and  all  seemed 


I4O  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAV 

so  wrapped  up  and  awed  at  the  prospect  before  them 
that  few,  if  any,  bestowed  a  look,  not  to  mention  a  sym- 
pathetic glance,  upon  the  poor,  puffing  wretches  who 
labored  upwards  in  the  opposite  direction.  A  "skyds- 
karl"  who  had  delivered  his  load  and  was  rest- 
ing his  horse  by  the  wayside,  proved  a  source  of  diver- 
sion at  this  juncture.  He  addressed  us  familiarly,  ques- 
tioning us  as  to  our  professions  and  aims  in  life,  and 
also  regarding  our  immediate  future  plans.  We  could 
not  resent  this,  for  we  took  it  that  he  had  just  as  much 
license  to  know  something  about  the  various  individuals 
that  invaded  his  country,  as  we  had  a  right  to  exercise 
the  art  of  imposition  to  the  extent  of  volleying  questions 
right  and  left,  and  to  whomsoever  we  chose  thus  to  grill. 
We  did  it  to  learn,  while  he  was  mostly  actuated  by 
curiosity ;  but  who  should  exercise  censorship  and  restrict 
his  privilege?  After  he  had  pumped  others  to  his 
heart's  content  we  came  in  for  our  turn,  and  soon  learned 
that  he  was  busy  by  spells,  the  tourist  travel  having  its 
particular  season  and  dwindling  to  almost  nothing  at 
other  times.  When  he  could  pick  up  return  loads  on 
his  trips  he  was  getting  rich  fast,  but  as  this  happy  con- 
dition of  things  was  of  but  scant  occurrence,  his  get-rich- 
quick  method  resolved  itself  into  a  slow  one  before  the 
season  ended.  He  complained  that  the  easy  life  made  a 
loafer  of  him  and  in  no  small  degree  unfitted  him  for 
other  work  during  the  rest  of  the  year.  Sometimes  the 
money  would  come  in  almost  too  freely,  spoiling  him, 
as  for  instance  when  some  misguided  philanthropist  with 
more  dollars  than  judgment  would  broadcast  them  about 
just  to  observe  the  effect.  These  ill-balanced  money-bags 
awaken  unreasonable  desires  in  unsophisticated  country 
folk,  and  have  a  tendency  to  spoil  the  territory  for  those 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  14! 

of  more  modest  means.  The  tipping-evil  causes  its  full 
share  of  annoyance  and  mischief  here  as  well  as  in  other 
places  where  it  is  in  vogue. 

Our  friend  had  no  eye  for  scenery  and  was  at  a 
loss  to  know  why  so  many  people  came  into  this  broken, 
rugged  country  to  sojourn  when,  for  instance,  one  might 
stay  on  a  nice,  flat  farm  in  Iowa  and  see  nothing  but 
pretty  things  all  one's  life.  I  thought  of  the  vast  green 
cornfields,  the  ripening  grain,  the  rich,  rolling  meadows 
and  pastures  with  their  flocks,  the  fine  buildings  and 
groves ;  I  saw  it  all  in  my  mind's  eye,  and  suddenly  it 
dawned  upon  me  that  I  had  not  properly  appreciated  it 
before.  My  friend  had  eyes,  but  saw  not;  the  grandeur 
at  home  beckoned  unheeded ;  but  I  was  no  better  than 
he,  for  we  had  both  indulged  in  extravagant  dreams  of 
the  grand  and  the  beautiful  far  away,  overlooking, 
meanwhile,  many  of  the  wonders  lying  at  our  feet. 

Arrived  at  the  end  of  the  sinuous  road,  we  had  not 
far  to  go  before  we  reached  our  hotel,  named  Vatnehalsen. 
It  was  a  great,  rambling  structure  containing  room 
enough  for  a  small  army,  being  indeed  at  the  time  oc- 
cupied by  one,  tourists  though  they  were.  They  sat  at 
ease  on  chairs  and  divans,  a  pleasant  human  family- 
group,  all  bent  on  being  congenial,  care- free  and  happy, 
forgetful  of  titles  and  dispensing  with  useless  ceremony. 

The  doctor  and  I  settled  ourselves  with  sighs  of 
happy  contentment  on  an  unoccupied  divan  in  a  corner 
of  one  of  the  spacious  rooms,  where  we  were  soon  oc- 
cupied in  observing  our  neighbors,  forgetting,  meanwhile, 
that  we  were  being  observed  ourselves,  though  so  art- 
fully that  no  one  suspected  it.  We  are  all  adepts  at 
seeing  without  seeming  to  see. 

Among  those  thus  indiscriminately  assembled  there 


142  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

happened  to  be  several  with  gifts  and  abilities  for  tha 
entertainment  of  others.  One  gracious  lady,  of  quite 
regal  mien,  took  her  stand  with  modest  dignity  by  the 
"flygel"  (grand  piano),  so  that  all  might  hear,  and 
flooded  the  rooms  with  song.  She  awoke  responses  in 
many  souls,  and  some  actually  took  fire  sufficiently  to 
display  powers  of  their  own.  We  discovered,  here  as 
elsewhere,  that  the  beautiful  art  of  song  is  a  common 
accomplishment;  that  it  remains  with  us,  and  in  us,  and 
is  not  really  dependent  on  various  outside  handiwork 
to  further  its  expression.  Stripped  of  everything  but 
life,  we  may  still  create  song,  though  we  chance  to  be  on 
a  barren  island  or  a  desolate  mountain  top.  It  is  these 
higher  things,  accumulated  and  garnered  within,  that 
really  elevate  and  are  best  worth  while. 

Dinner  was  served  in  an  oblong  annex  that  conveyed 
the  impression  of  almost  limitless  dimensions;  but  I  was 
so  confused  that  I  could  not  well  estimate  anything.  I 
thought  of  little  else  than  my  aged  collar,  while  the  doc- 
tor shame-facedly  hid  his  soiled  cuffs  as  best  he  might. 
Imagine  us  two  travel-stained  scare-crows  sitting  op- 
posite a  prima-donna,  or  some  such  personage,  and  with 
an  immaculately  dressed  aristocrat  and  a  prim  silken 
figure  placed  on  either  side  of  us.  These  had  no  doubt 
reclined  on  the  softest  of  cushions  while  making  their  ex- 
cursions in  the  mountains,  and  had  seldom,  if  ever,  for- 
gotten dress  and  pose.  Self-consciousness  is  an  uncom- 
fortable feeling,  anyway.  It  was  present  on  both  sides, 
and  to  both  it  caused  no  little  annoyance;  to  them  be- 
cause of  a  certain  feeling  of  superiority,  to  us  because 
of  an  imagined  inferiority.  But  at  bottom  not  one  of 
us  really  felt  any  serious  concern.  Happily  for  all,  we 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  143 

finally  forgot  trifles,  opened  our  mouths  and  began  to 
exchange  commonplaces.  Lo !  the  primma-donna  so 
doted  upon  roughing  it  and  would  like  to  walk  as  we  did ; 
and  so  did  the  dude !  The  despised  collars  and  cuffs 
were  straightway  forgotten.  The  food  was  set  in  tempt- 
ing array  well  within  our  reach,  and  all  obeyed  their 
natural  instincts,  helping  themselves  according  to  their 
several  desiijes,  and  forgetting  as  usual  duly  to  consider 
the  results  of  such  indulgence.  We  "hove  to"  because 
we  liked  it ;  so  do  savages ;  nor  could  the  learned  profes- 
sor on  our  left  quite  dissociate  himself  from  mere 
fleshly  needs  and  cravings,  but  applied  himself  to  his 
viands  as  vigorously  as  the  rest.  I  saw  representatives 
from  many  different  walks  in  life,  of  utterly  different 
temperamental  moulds  and  cast  of  features,  but  at  table 
they  were  as  one ;  they  chewed  and  swallowed  ridicu- 
lously alike,  becoming  very  insignificant  in  the  act. 
What  a  lot  of  petty,  truckling  toddlers  we  mortals  be, 
as  we  sit  before  the  Giver  of  all  things,  as  He  daily  holds 
forth  his  fingers  to  be  seized,  squeezed  and  sucked. 

To  be  taken  away  from  so  much  good  cheer,  warmth 
and  enjoyment,  and  led  into  solitude  with  nothing  but 
walls,  a  white  counterpane,  a  pitcher  of  cold  water  and 
a  roomful  of  chilly  atmosphere  with  an  unfeeling  looking 
glass  to  show  you  up  just  as  you  are  —  unless  downright 
drowsy  the  change  is  unsufferably  unwelcome,  quite  ex- 
cruciatingly so,  to  a  sensitive,  company-loving  soul.  Then 
is  when  you  think  most  fondly  of  home  and  mother, 
father,  brother  and  sister,  and  get  a  touch  of  home- 
sickness. It  is  when  thus  standing  face  to  face  with 
himself,  which  usually  happens  in  a  disagreeable  place, 
that  a  man  asks,  for  instance,  such  aimless  questions: 


144  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

Is  this  business  of  travel  worth  while?  Where,  oh  where 
did  I  get  that  bump  of  curiosity,  this  restlessness,  this 
climbing  habit?  —  and  so  on. 

Pulling  myself  together,  I  charged  for  the  couch, 
but  could  hardly  keep  from  thinking  disagreeable 
thoughts  as  I  touched  the  uninhabitable  spot  and  felt 
the  sudden  rising  of  goose-flesh.  These  summer  moun- 
tain beds  are  the  staunchest  to  withstand  warmth  of 
almost  any  that  I  know  of.  They  are  never  treated  to 
the  ameliorating  influence  of  a  stove,  nor  are  the  mat- 
tresses always  thick,  or  the  coverings  so  very  heavy ; 
hence  the  weary  mountain-climber's  body,  lethargic  and 
unquickened  in  the  early  stages  of  repose,  has  much  ado 
to  keep  away  the  tremors,  and  to  supply  the  proper 
amount  of  surplus  heat  required  underneath  the  clammy, 
clinging  snow-aired  sheets. 

The  doctor  and  I  were  to  meet  at  breakfast  at  a 
certain  late  hour  the  next  morning,  but  the  meeting  did 
not  take  place.  Making  enquiry  of  the  hotel  maids  as 
to  the  departure  of  my  train  I  was  pleasantly  informed 
that  it  was  due  immediately.  I  grabbed  my  belongings 
with  one  hand,  paid  my  bill  with  the  other,  and  then  ran. 
I  had  at  least  half  a  mile  to  cover  before  reaching  the 
station.  Both  legs  and  lungs  and  heart  begged  to  be  let 
alone  yet  for  awhile,  too  much  having  been  required  of 
them  yesterday,  and  I  would  gladly  have  obeyed;  but  as 
the  train-  was  the  only  one  due  to  arrive  that  forenoon, 
I  was  resolved  to  try  to  catch  it.  The  creaking,  rebel- 
lious machinery  was  accordingly  set  in  motion,  and  up 
hill  and  down  hill  it  went,  and  with  such  speed  that  the 
air  seemed  to  grow  thin  and  lungs  too  small,  with  the 
heart  hitting  sledge-hammer-like  wherever  I -took  a  fancy 
to  imagine  it.  If  I  thought  of  it  somewhere  about  the 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  145 

chest,  it  pounded  away  there  to  beat  the  band ;  if  the 
mind  transferred  it  to  its  own  temple,  it  hit  the  head  as 
with  a  club ;  and  if  consciousness  once  happened  to  center 
about  the  big  toe,  presto !  it  was  there.  But  when  it 
jumped  into  the  throat  I  liked  it  the  least  of  all. 

Catching  one's  train  in  this  strenuous  fashion  is  one 
of  the  severest  experiences.     But  that  blessed  train  was 


Drawing    by 

E.    Biorn. 

Making   connections. 


a  minute  or  two  late,  though 
I  gave  it  small  thanks  for 
that,  and  I  got  on  some  way, 
but  did  not  recover  my  true 

self  for  an  hour.  I  could  not  properly  note  the  scenery 
while  in  such  a  condition,  nor  was  there  anything  of  sur- 
passing interest  to  record.  There  were  many  short  tun- 
nels which  plunged  us  painfully  into  darkness,  and,  there 
being  absolutely  nothing  to  observe  the  while,  we  could 
but  remain  still  and  wait  for  something  of  which  as  yet 
we  knew  nothing.  I  came  near  forgetting  that  the  im- 
agination was  actively  at  work;  and  as  our  inner  vision 
is  really  the  most  comprehensive,  I  took  to  reconstructing 
former  sights,  thus  seeing  things  in  the  dark,  after  all. 
10 


146  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

Nowhere  else  than  in  the  imagination  may  we  see  a  bit 
of  scenery  from  all  directions  and  in  all  conceivable 
shapes,  and  all  at  once.  The  imagination  provides  the 
most  perfect  panorama,  flitting  instantaneously  from 
place  to  place  and  exhibiting  any  or  all  sides  of  a  given 
stretch  simultaneously. 

Thus  we  were  occupied  rehearsing,  retrospecting, 
doing  what  is  called  doing  nothing,  all  the  while  we  were 
trundling  slowly  through  the  pitch-dark  tunnels.  The 
comparatively  sudden  glimpses  of  day  which  momentarily 
blinded  our  eyes,  revealed,  as  soon  as  we  were  able  to 
take  a  peep,  a  considerable  number  of  openings  between 
tke  tunnels,  these  openings  being  almost  invariably  pro- 
tected by  snow-sheds  built  over  the  track.  They  hin- 
dered the  view  considerably,  but  we  made  out  that  we 
were  at  a  height  where  we  could  no  longer  expect  to  see 
many  cows  or  goats  or  much  grass.  There  was,  however, 
plenty  of  snow,  and  languid  little  lakes  overflowing,  here 
and  there,  for  the  benefit  of  the  ever-hungry  mountain 
streams. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
Ose  Glacier 

at  Hallingskei,  the  first  station,  I  left  the 
train  and  started  forth  for  the  only  house  in 
town,  Fjelstova  Hotel.  I  sought  two  things, 
lunch,  and  a  guide  to  show  me  across  Ose  glacier.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  the  only  guest  at  the  hotel,  and  hence  received 
the  undivided  care  and  attention  of  the  exceptionally 
willing  and  proficient  hotel-maid.  She  compounded  a 
most  delectable  dish  from  milk  and  cream  and  other 
splendid  ingredients,  and  it  so  appealed  to  my  fancy  that 
I  almost  resolved  not  to  come  away.  Having  thus  once 
been  spoiled,  I  could  not  bear  to  think  that  this  was  to 
be  my  first  and  last  and  only  taste.  Had  I  been  some- 
body's cook  I  am  afraid  my  pockets  would  soon  have 
bulged  with  recipes  picked  up  here  and  there.  Embryo 
Mrs.  Rorers  may  be  found  in  every  bush  in  Norway. 

I  engaged  as  guide  a  railroad  hand  that  happened 
conveniently  on  the  spot,  and  who,  as  I  later  learned,  was 
really  supposed  to  accommodate  stray  wayfarers  such  as 
I.  The  route  is  seldom  traversed  by  tourists.  We 
crossed  an  open  and  really  quite  level  place,  where  a  few 
blades  of  pale  green  grass  were  growing,  and  where 
there  was  the  semblance  of  a  saeter  hut  tucked  away  at 
one  side  amid  the  crowding  rocks.  This  was  once  a 
marketplace  where  the  people  of  Hardanger  and  Halling- 
dal  met  of  old  to  exchange  produce,  cattle,  sheep  or  any 
marketable  ware  that  could  be  transported  hither  on  its 
own  legs  or  on  the  backs  of  man  or  beast,  but  never  on 

(147) 


148  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

wheels.  There  was  not  only  the  mere  matter  of  trading 
going  on,  but  there  were  fights  as  well,  and  these  came 
to  be  remembered  longer  than  the  business  done,  stories 
of  particular  feats  of  prowess  being  handed  down  from 
father  to  son,  from  generation  to  generation.  It  is  said 
that  the  men  of  Valdres,  when  going  abroad  to  market, 
always  carried  cloth  for  bandages,  and  winding  sheets, 
in  the  event  of  being  knocked  out  in  some  scrimmage. 
Though,  no  doubt,  a  bit  of  local  fiction,  it  is  reported  to 
be  the  saying  of  a  strapping  fellow  of  Valdres  as  he  re- 
turned from  one  of  these  market  places :  "This  trip  I 
killed  only  seven." 

My  guide  was  very  talkative,  and  also  somewhat 
selfish ;  for  he  never  offered  to  give  me  a  lift  with  my 
bundle,  nor  would  he  listen  to  expressions  of  any  kind 
save  such  as  were  formulated  by  himself.  Norwegians 
are  generally  modest,  but  this  one  was  not.  He  was  a 
"knocker,"  besides.  He  loved  to  find  fault  with  his 
employers,  with  his  government,  with  the  world.  He, 
only,  was  the  perfectly  flawless  one.  He  made  me  want 
to  apologize  for  everything,  for  myself  and  every  one 
else.  He  was  of  the  self-important  type  frequently  found 
in  certain  rural  communities  around  which  the  world 
moves,  or  ought  to  move.  I  was  more  interested  in  the 
scenery  than  in  his  gossip ;  but  he  was  able  to  give 
scarcely  any  information  of  value  regarding  the  territory 
which  he  as  guide  was  supposed  to  know.  I  had  to  de- 
pend on  my  chart  for  such  knowledge.  He  stayed  with 
me  for  about  three  hours,  when,  having  led  me  into  the 
midst  of  the  great  Ose  glacier,  he  pointed  toward  the 
distant  haze,  saying,  "There  lies  Hardanger."  He  then 
proceeded  to  leave  me,  for  his  time  was  up  and  his  pay 
earned,  according  to  his  schedule.  He  told  me  where  to 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  149 

go  to  descend  into  Ose  Valley,  but  as  I  was  aware  of  the 
general  direction  myself  I  promptly  forgot  his  advice. 

I  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  this  chatterbox,  and  sur- 
rounded with  silence,  and  disturbed  by  nothing,  I  con- 
templated the  wonderful  panorama  spread  out  before 
me.  I  was  standing  on  the  very  pinnacle  of  this  great 
glacier  and  could  see  others  in  the  distance,  blanketing 
vast  areas,  covering  every  crevice,  and  each  hiding  a  mil- 
lion secrets  of  its  own.  I  caught  glimpses  in  the  dis- 
tance of  some  of  the  higher  points  in  the  districts  of 
Nummedal  and  psterdal,  saw  Mt.  Haarteigen  rising 
sheer  with  its  glowering  head,  beheld  the  vast  tract  of 
high  plateau  called  "Hardanger  vidden"  where  thousands 
of  reindeer  are  pastured,  and  came  upon  many  things 
else  which  were  interesting  to  see  but  which  it  avails 
little  to  attempt  to  describe.  Looking  west  and  ocean- 
ward,  my  gaze  met  the  back  of  the  mighty  Vasfjaren, 
which  looks  like  a  mighty  amphitheatre  as  viewed  from 
Hardanger  fjord.  In  the  direction  of  Voss  were  other 
vast  rocky  heights,  and  between  their  towers,  steeples 
and  minarets,  still  other  mountain-peaks  appeared, 
smaller,  but  further  away,  beyond  which,  especially  in 
a  south-westerly  direction  peeps  of  the  ocean  were  ob- 
tained. The  most  wonderful  view  of  all  lay  before  me 
in  the  valley  of  Ose,  with  its  glassy  fjord  reflecting  its 
irregular  contour;  and  looming  beyond,  many  miles  dis- 
tant, hung  "Folgefonden,"  one  of  the  most  wonderful 
glaciers  in  the  world.  I  saw  the  mighty  Hardanger 
[okul  on  whose  slopes,  near  Finse,  great  summer  ski- 
tournaments  are  held. 

I  realized,  however,  that  I  could  not  continue  my 
material  existence  very  long  by  merely  feeding*  the 
spirit,  so  decided  to  ramble  along  downward  in  the  di- 


I5O  WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY 

rection  of  the  shimmering  fjord  brightly  beckoning  in 
the  sunlight,  where  I  might  hope  to  find  rest,  food  and 
folks.  But  it  took  considerable  time  and  effort  to  reach 
my  goal.  Though  still  in  a  sufficiently  exalted  state,  I 
could  not  quite  overcome  my  natural  timidity,  and  was 
unable  to  hinder  a  few  hairs  from  taking  turns  at  stand- 
ing on  end,  now  and  then,  as  greater  or  smaller  dangers 
loomed  up  before  me.  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe 
how  I  slid  and  slipped  and  hitched  and  humped  down- 
ward, till  I  finally  come  to  some  gaping  clefts  in  the 
mountain  I  had  to  cross,  which  made  me  pause  awhile  to 
consider.  It  seemed  that  right  here  the  mountain  had 
become  topheavy  and  had  allowed  innumerable  clefts  to 
form,  enabling  it  somehow  to  glide  into  an  easier  posi- 
tion. They  were  wholly  on  the  flat  surface  and  gave 
no  warning  till  one  held  the  leg  poised  preparatory  to 
stepping  into  nothing.  Then  the  wary  eye  signalled 
danger  ahead,  and  the  fateful  step  was  not  taken.  Those 
who  have  explored  these  crevices  say  they  contain  not  a 
few  skeletons  of  deer  and  other  animals.  Sometimes 
animals  have  been  rescued  before  life  has  become  ex- 
tinct. A  valuable  dog  in  pursuit  of  game  tumbled  in, 
together  with  his  quarry,  but  was  rescued  after  much 
effort  by  the  hunters.  The  apparent  depth  of  the  clefts 
is  generally  not  great,  hence  it  has  proved  not  impossible 
to  rescue  human  beings  who  have  fallen  into  them.  Be- 
ing alone,  I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  being  caught  in 
a  trap  like  this,  and  took  increasing  care  as  I  made  my 
way  out  of  the  treacherous  zone. 

I  saw  the  most  curious  waterfall  where,  just  before 
it  leaped,  a  huge  boulder  lay  poised  itself  ready  to  take 
the  plunge,  but  never  quite  decided  to  do  so.  The  water 
pushed  on  behind  to  help  as  best  it  might,  but  grown 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  151 

forever  impatient  it  swirled  swiftly  round  at  its  base 
and  sped  happily  downwards,  a  hundred  feet  or  so,  only 
to  be  brought  up  with  a  crash  against  a  heap  of  fallen 
stones  which  sent  the  spray  flying  and  tore  the  air  into 
shreds  and  fragments  of  sound.  There  were  several 
silver  streaks  that  shot  down  from  the  lofty  Vasf  jaren ; 
and  their  fall  was  cruel,  considering  their  slender,  weak- 
looking  bodies,  and  the  stupendous  height.  It  was  al- 
most too  much  for  me  to  enjoy  all  this  grandeur  alone, 
and  I  wished  for  an  appreciative  companion  to  share  my 
rapture.  Yet,  to  be  exact,  I  must  admit  that  often  when 
quite  solitary  and  alone  Nature  has  addressed  me  in  her 
most  attractive,  winsome  manner.  She  speaks  to  each 
one  separately  and  would  not  be  interrupted;  hence  her 
generous  provision  of  opportunities  for  isolation  and 
silence. 

I  met  a  solitary  ram  at  about  this  time,  and  con- 
jectured that  there  must  be  other  sheep  in  the  vicinity 
and  perhaps  cows,  with  every  liklihood  of  a  saeter  near 
by.  The  ram  bowed  to  me  and  jauntily  jerked  back  his 
foot,  which  salutations  I  politely  returned,  whereupon 
we  both  went  about  our  business,  I  to  my  walking,  he 
to  his  cropping.  The  saeter  turned  up,  sure  enough,  and 
with  it  two  girls  and  their  aged  father.  It  was  a  relief  to 
me  to  have  a  taste  of  human  companionship  again  after 
my  long  lonesome  climb  in  this  wildest  of  valleys.  Be- 
yond the  hut  it  grew  more  fearful  still.  The  valley  nar- 
rowed, and  in  some  places  were  fantastic,  insecurely 
poised  rocks  that  threatened  to  come  down  any  moment. 
Nor  did  they  pose  thus  threatingly  in  vain,  for  there  had 
been  a  terrific  rain  of  rocks  at  some  period,  millions  of 
fragments  lying  about  to  dispute  the  way  and  make 
trouble. 


152  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

After  meeting  with  the  ram  I  had  come  across  no 
other  live-stock  till  now,  when,  as  I  was  threading  the 
difficult  path  amid  the  fallen  stones,  I  encountered  a 
flock  of  sheep  busily  feeding.  They  did  not  take  as 
kindly  to  me  as  their  leader,  but  fled  down  the  declivity 
at  sight  of  me.  I  found  myself  in  advance  of  a  few  of 
them,  and  what  did  these  do  but  leave  the  path,  helter- 
skelter,  abandoning  themselves  to  the  horrors  of  stone 
and  chasm  on  either  side,  rejoining  their  companions 
as  best  they  might  and  with  a  great  to-do  of  bobbing  tails, 
far,  far  below.  They  seemed  as  sure-footed  as  goats, 
and  kept  to  their  feet  as  if  their  lives  depended  on  it, 
which  indeed  was  true.  There  are  said  to  be  not  far 
from  1,500,000  sheep  in  the  country.  They  are  generally 
rather  small  and  slender,  their  weight  averaging  scarcely 
ninety  pounds.  The  meat  is  exceptionally  fine,  and  has 
a  rather  better  flavor  than  American  mutton.  .Home- 
spun woolen  clothing  was  formerly  much  used,  and  is 
still  used,  to  some  extent. 

The  inevitable,  noisy,  reckless  river  accompanied  me 
all  the  way  down  the  incline,  pushing  its  way  through 
where  there  was  the  least  hindrance,  leaving  the  poor 
path  to  take  second  choice  and  make  its  way  as  best  it 
might.  It  was  the  roughest  walk  I  have  ever  taken,  and 
it  seemed  endless  to  me,  coming  fatigued  as  I  did  from 
the  distant  cloud  regions,  but  I  finally  spied  a  house, 
which  was  not  a  saeter,  and  I  knew  then  that  I  should 
soon  arrive  at  a  proper  dwelling-place  of  man.  When  I 
arrived  there  I  found  the  man,  it  is  true,  but  he  was 
quite  alone.  He  was  old,  but  very  spry,  and  most  wil- 
ling to  serve  me.  Part  of  the  family  were  at  a  distant 
saeter,  a  few  in  America,  and  some  in  the  grave.  It 
gave  me  a  start  when  he  proceeded  to  deliver  himself  of 


153 


the  very  thickest  of  Hardanger  dialects,  one  of  the  many 
with  which  we,  as  children,  had  grown  familiar  among 
our  neighbors  back  in  old  Iowa.  It  made  me  feel  in- 
stantly at  home.  He  was  vastly  pleased  at  my  under- 


A  raging 
mountain  stream. 

standing-  him  so  readily  and  at 
my  own  facility  of  expression, 
and  this,  to  a  large  extent, 
in  his  very  own  style  of  speech.  When  I  told  him 
that  I  had  a  brother  who  could  handle  a  dozen  or  so 
different  Norwegian  dialects,  he  fairly  gasped  and 
wished  to  know  what  room  there  was  left  for  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country,  namely  English.  I  told  him 


154  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

we  seemed  to  get  along,  having  gone  little  to  any 
other  but  English  schools  all  our  lives,  and  seldom 
writing  any  other  language. 

"My  friend,"  says  he,  "you  know  more  Norwegian 
dialects  than  I  do." 

"That  is  no  more  than  natural,"  I  answered  him, 
"the  reason  being  that  you  are  set  apart  in  little  groups, 
each  in  its  separate  valley,  while  in  Iowa  there  are  no 
such  barriers,  just  fences,  and  the  new-comer  from  the 
North  Cape  may  jump  these  fences  and  mingle  his  quaint 
speech  with  that  of  his  fellow-countryman  from  Kristian- 
sand ;  and  there  you  are.  It  needs  no  trick  for  a  listen- 
ing urchin  to  gather  the  gist  of  the  dialogue  or  acquire 
the  twang." 

He  looked  at  me  with  shining  eyes,  but  vouchsafed 
nothing  further. 

I  told  him  I  was  tired  and  not  without  a  desire  for 
food,  and  he  believed  me;  for  he  had  made  the  journey 
himself  in  his  youth,  and  knew  I  spoke  the  truth.  He 
brought  me  some  aged  milk  that  made  me  scream  because 
it  was  so  thoroughly  sour,  but  when  crusts  of  the 
famous  Hardanger  cake  were  munched  with  it,  the 
whole  went  down  quite  appetizingly  and  soon  brought 
about  a  feeling  of  well-being  both  in  mind  and  body.  He 
would  have  me  drink  some  home-made  beer  that  had 
grown  very  old  and  lost  most  of  its  flavor  (thus  he 
modestly  explained),  but  this  was  exaggerated,  for  I 
found  to  my  sorrow  that  the  seemingly  innocent  glassful 
contained  its  maximum  of  strength.  He  called  my  at- 
tention to  a  large  map  of  the  United  States  sent  to  him  by 
his  son,  and  which  he  had  studied  every  day,  but  with 
little  benefit;  he  could  not  realize  the  vast  distances,  and 
supposed  that  I  would  be  familiar  with  every  spot. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


155 


Learning  that  I  wished  to  go  to  Ulvik  that  night, 
my  host  proposed  to  row  me  across  the  fjord  to  Oivin- 
staa,  whence  I  might  walk  the  rest  of  the  distance.  His 
generous  offer  suited  me  well,  and  we  accordingly  started 
for  the  boat.  He  pulled  and  I  pushed,  thus  inducing  the 
"Sea-gull"  to  quit  the  old  boat  house  where  it  reclined 


Draw'ng   by   E.   Biorn. 
Ose  fjord  at  night. 

but  awkwardly  anyway,  at  least  when  compared  with 
the  bouyancy  and  ease  with  which  it  rested  on  the  water. 
Jacob  was  seventy  years  old,  and  I  offered  to  do  the  row- 
ing; but  he  would  have  none  of  it,  taking  the  oars  him- 
self, and  asking  me  to  sit  back  in  the  stern  and  enjoy  the 
night  and  the  scenery. 

Silence,  broken  only  by  the  faint  murmur  of  distant 


156  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

waterfalls,  wrapped  us  in  its  embrace.  The  fjord  ap- 
peared to  be  a  vast  looking-glass,  where  the  towering 
mountains  never  tired  of  regarding  themselves.  Many 
of  them  leaned  too  far  back,  however,  to  be  able  to 
admire  their  own  charms,  but  they  could  regard  their 
neighbors  across  the  fjord  without  seeming  to  see,  by 
merely  taking  a  side-glance  into  the  deep.  Their  re- 
flection was  perfect  and  saved  me  from  bending  back 
my  neck  to  view  the  original  itself.  But  I  had  an  uneasy 
feeling  that  they  might  drop  away  into  space,  clear  down 
to  the  moon,  which  I  saw  peeping  through  the  tree-tops 
on  a  distant  mountain-side.  It  was  all  so  very  wonder- 
ful ;  yes,  and  more  entrancing  than  seeing  the  finest  art 
gallery  in  the  world. 

Old  Jacob  did  not  seem  to  notice  the  things  about 
him,  but  looked  into  the  dim  vistas  of  the  past,  fetching 
forth  therefrom  stories  reminiscent  of  his  youth,  to 
which  I  listened  with  rapt  attention.  He  told  me  of 
his  playmates  from  nearby  Espe  where  he  was  born,  and 
surprised  me  by  telling  of  one  of  them  in  particular,  an 
old  lady,  a  neighbor  of  ours  in  Iowa  and  one  of  the 
early  settlers,  She  had  gone  away  ever  so  many  years  be- 
fore, but  he  seemed  to  see  her  still,  just  as  she  had  looked 
in  her  youth.  I  knew  her  as  a  wrinkled  old  soul  living 
past  man's  allotted  time,  strong  in  spirit,  but  decrepit  in 
body  and  ready  and  eager  to  make  the  last  journey 
Home.  I  told  him  of  this,  and  it  pleased  him ;  but  there 
came  a  shadow  across  his  face  as  he  confessed  that,  be- 
cause of  much  tribulation  in  life,  he,  unlike  his  child- 
hood's friend,  had  for  awhile  forgotten  that  there  was  a 
Providence.  Now,  he  could  trace  the  finger  of  the  Most 
High  through  it  all,  and  had  learned  to  be  thankful  for 
the  crosses  as  well  as  for  other  favors.  As  I  stepped  upon 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  157 

the  wharf  at  Oivinstaa  the  hearty  grip  of  his  hand  and  his 
"God  bless  you"  gave  me,  too,  courage,  and  I  stood  long 
regarding  the  lonely  figure  receding  into  gloom  and  wear- 
ing, as  it  were,  the  halo  of  a  chastened  spirit. 

It  was  late  at  night,  and  there  was  not  a  single  light 
at  Oivinstaa  to  make  me  welcome ;  so  I  did  not  tarry, 
but  took  to  the  roadway  at  once.  I  went  as  in  a  dream, 
thinking  about  old  Jacob,  but,  arriving  at  a  place  where 
the  road  forked,  I  was  abruptly  recalled  from  visions  of 
the  past  to  solve  questions  of  the  future.  The  most  press- 
ing problem  was,  which  road  must  I  take?  Why  had 
I  not  listened  with  more  attention  to  Jacob's  directions, 
so  painstakingly  given?  I  berated  myself  roundly  and 
had  the  satisfaction,  at  least,  of  delivering  a  splendid 
scolding,  but  it  furnished  no  consolation.  As  it  would 
not  do  to  debate  about  it  very  long,  I  decided  in  favor 
of  the  best  looking  road,  hoping  that  chance  would  make 
it  the  right  one.  But,  still  dissatisfied,  I  determined  to 
rouse  the  inmates  in  the  first  house  I  came  to,  to  learn  the 
truth.  That  house  seemed  to  have  been  placed  in  a 
position  of  defence,  for  I  stumbled  across  fences,  ditches, 
and  rock  piles  before  I  finally  attained  it;  and  being  in 
no  gentle  mood,  I  knocked  harder  than  necessary.  I  did 
not  need  to  knock  again  for  I  heard  almost  on  the  instant 
a  chair  overturned,  and  directly  a  clamp,  clamp,  as  if  a 
gun  were  being  used  as  a  walking  stick.  It  was  only  a 
pair  of  wooden  shoes,  however,  making  for  the  door  at 
which  I  was  causing  so  much  disturbance.  I  expected 
to  see  a  face  all  awry  from  vexation  and  disturbed  sleep, 
but  saw,  instead,  the  mildest-featured  person  in  the  world 
standing  at  attention  in  his  rather  scant  attire,  ready  to 
do  or  say  anything  to  oblige  me.  It  was  this  kindly  atti- 
tude of  his  that  made  me  remember  the  incident.  May 


158  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

a  shower  of  blessings  fall  upon  him  for  being  so  gentle 
and  considerate !  I  left  the  place  in  a  better  mood,  fol- 
lowing a  path  he  designated  instead  of  blazing  another 
way  of  my  own.  I  might  have  kept  the  road,  for  it  was 
the  right  one,  but  there  was  a  world  of  difference  in  my 
attitude  now  that  I  knew  positively. 

I  was  surprised  to  find  many  loiterers  by  the  road- 
side, now  that  I  did  not  have  need  of  them.  There  were 
couples  that  had  locked  arms,  that  held  hands,  that  looked 
into  each  others'  eyes,  that  whispered,  that  caressed,  and 
did  a  great  many  other  ridiculous  things ;  and  with  cupid 
darting  hither  and  thither  I  felt  that  I  had  come  into 
his  very  own  country,  and  accordingly  made  preparations 
to  be  shot.  Being  but  a  poor  target,  I  managed  to  evade 
his  shafts,  and  I  arrived  at  the  hotel  in  Ulvik,  unscathed. 


CHAPTER  XV 
Ulvik 

TRANG  the  door  bell  exactly  at  midnight.  A  melan- 
choly voice  floated  down  from  the  balustrade  above, 
demanding  the  nature  of  my  errand.  I  answered 
that  I  was  in  quest  of  a  place  to  sleep,  upon  which  there 
appeared  a  light,  then  the  patter  of  slippered  feet,  and 
finally  the  person  herself,  who  was  none  other  than  the 
daughter  of  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel  set  to  watch  the 
arrival  of  belated  guests.  She  held  the  taper  above  the 
hotel  register,  indicated  the  place  to  sign,  and  while  1 
did  this  she  watched  the  scrawl  assuming  form  and  di- 
mension. When  it  was  finished  she  gave  a  perfectly 
proper  feminine  start,  tipped  the  taper  dangerously,  and 
ejaculated :  "Why  I  know  that  name.  Might  you  pos- 
sibly be  a  relative  of  Rev.  So-and-so  in  Stanwood,  the 
place  where  my  father  visited  when  he  was  in  America  ?" 
There  was  no  weariness  in  her  tones  any  longer,  she 
was  eager  to  know  about  her  father's  friends,  and  I  did 
not  keep  her  in  suspense,  realizing,  also,  that  the  world  is 
very,  very  small  indeed.  Learning  that  I  was  own 
brother  to  that  minister,  she  confidently  used  me  as  the 
means  of  obtaining  the  knowledge  she  desired  regarding 
that  great  western  country  and  the  minister's  community 
in  particular.  Publicly,  rather  little  interest  has  been 
shown  in  our  American  doings,  heretofore ;  but  privately, 
especially  among  the  country  people,  the  interest  never 
lags.  She  invited  me  to  their  home,  but  I  had  to  forego 
the  pleasure  of  a  visit  as  I  had  mapped  out  my  trip  in 

(159) 


l6o  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

complete  ignorance  of  this  charming  person  and  her 
father,  who  was  also  "ord  f0rer"  (spokesman)  and 
school-master;  otherwise  here  would  have  been  an  ideal 
place  to  sojourn. 

Ulvik  is  noted  in  song  and  story  as  one  of  the 
favored  spots  of  earth.  Wergeland,  the  great  Norwegian 
bard,  sings  its  praises  in  the  loftiest  terms.  The  scene 
of  the  famous  song,  "The  Bridal  Party  in  Hardanger," 
is  laid  here.  The  fjord  and  the  fields  and  wooded  tracts, 
together  with  the  fine  array  of  adjacent  mountains,  form 
a  scene  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Going  to  rest  that  night,  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  realize  that  this  was  the  winding  up  of  the  day  of  that 
morning  long  ago  when  I  sprinted  to  catch  the  train.  If 
one  wishes  to  live  long  one  must  crowd  much  into  each 
hour;  an  uneventful  day  seems  so  very  short  to  look 
back  upon.  Ordinarily,  strange  experiences  keep  me 
awake,  but  in  this  instance  there  was  such  a  surfeit  of 
them  that  I  grew  careless,  and  sailed  away  into  the 
oblivion  of  sleep  before  I  had  time  to  arrange  my 
worries. 

How  six  o'clock  could  come  around  as  quickly  as  it 
did  surprised  me  utterly,  and  that  anybody  could  have 
the  heart  to  knock  so  rudely  and  disturb  this  bewitching 
rapture,  this  slumber  of  mine,  I  could  not  but  resent, 
even  though  I  had  myself  ordered  it  so.  To  get  back 
thus  into  this  prosaic  world,  even  though  it  be  in  as 
pretty  a  place  as  Ulvik,  is  not  appreciated  at  once.  But 
by  quickly  adopting  heroic  measures,  hitting  the  bed  post, 
expanding  the  chest,  forcing  a  draught  of  cold  water 
down  the  throat,  and  yawning  as  much  as  one  pleases, 
the  process  of  getting  awake  is  at  last  accomplished ;  and 
looking  through  the  window  at  the  glories  outside,  listen- 


WALKING-TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  l6l 

ing  to  the  birds'  acclaim  and  welcome,  one  is  glad  to  be 
awake  and  alive. 

The  breakfast  was  good,  but  I  dared  not  partake 
too  freely  as  1  had  a  walk  of  twelve  miles  before  me, 
up  a  mountain  and  down  again,  all  to  be  accomplished 
before  ten,  to  enable  me  to  catch  the  steamer  at  Eide. 
It  was  with  reluctance  that  I  bade  good-bye  to  my  new 
friends  at  Ulvik,  but  I  might  not  tarry,  as  a  tourist's 
schedule  is  a  very  exacting  thing.  I  could  change  it  at 
will  and  remain  inactive  if  I  chose,  but  that  would  mean 
many  interesting  fields  left  unexplored,  and  this  my 
eagerness  for  sight-seeing  would  not  brook. 

The  long-suffering  legs  were  accordingly  set  in  mo- 
tion, and  off  I  went  full  of  rich  anticipations  for  the 
coming  day.  It  was  one  continual,  changing  show  of 
beautiful  sights  throughout  the  entire  distance  as  I  hur- 
ried upwards,  overtaking  milk-wagons,  goat-drivers,  or 
other  slow-moving  outfits  creeping  along  the  road.  1 
'met  one  belligerent  old  woman  leading  a  goat  and  airing 
a  vituperative  vocabulary  which  she  vented  upon  her 
charge,  giving  me  also  some  of  its  benefits  as  I  passed. 
A  tourist  was  nothing  to  her,  but  when  she  heard  my 
name  she  grew  interested  at  once,  forgot  her  goat,  and 
expatiated  upon  the  ability  and  prowess  of  one  Reiar 
Tj0renaglin,  as  she  called  him,  who  hailed  from  my 
father's  birth-place.  He  had  been  known  all  over  this 
region,  she  said,  as  a  shrewd  trader  and  manager.  The 
sailors  of  Hardanger  nearly  always  dropped  anchor  as 
they  passed  Tjernagel,  where  he  lived,  to  make  a  sale 
or  purchase  or  pause  for  other  purposes  in  Tjernagel 
haven.  I  felt  highly  flattered  at  the  mention  and  dis- 
covery to  me  of  this  distant  connection,  and  she  grew 
visibly  proud  at  being  the  lucky  informant.  She  would 

11 


162  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

have  spent  an  hour  with  me,  but  neither  I  nor  the  goat 
desired  it.  Norwegians  love  such  wayside  visits,  tarry 
indefinitely,  and  tear  themselves  away  with  great  re- 
luctance. 

I  dodged  chance  encounters  as  much  as  possible 
after  this,  knowing  that  if  I  was  to  reach  my  destina- 
tion in  time,  I  must  make  all  possible  haste.  But  to 
hurry  along  ort  such  a  quiet,  lazy  morning  was  so  utterly 
out  of  place  that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I 
could  induce  myself  to  begin  the  race.  Upon  overtaking 
an  ordinary,  sane  pedestrian,  I  learned  that  I  was  not 
moving  half  fast  enough  if  I  cared  to  reach  such  and 
such  a  place  in  the  required  time.  I  needed  just  such  a 
spur  to  make  me  cease  from  loitering.  A  more  strenu- 
out  walk  it  has  never  been  my  pleasure  to  indulge  in.  I 
ran  across  an  old  woman  drinking  coffee  in  a  semi- 
saeter  hut,  and  she  was  so  struck  by  my  unkempt  and 
heated  appearance  that  she  forgot  her  Occupation  and 
could  only  stammer  inanities  in  answer  to  my  demand 
for  a  short-cut  down  the  mountain-side.  At  last  under- 
standing what  was  desired  of  her,  she  tried  to  give  the 
needed  directions,  but  I  gathered  that  the  path  was  so 
indistinct  that  I  might  get  lost  and  land  nowhere,  least 
of  all  in  Eide.  As  I  could  not  make  myself  look  any 
other  way  I  left  her  with  a  scowl,  while  the  poor  woman 
looked  guilty,  and  all  this  ado  was  for  nothing.  Having 
reached  the  top,  I  ran  when  nobody  was  looking,  feeling, 
meanwhile  very,  very  foolish.  I  glimpsed  the  beautiful 
world  about  me  through  the  mists  of  perspiration  arising 
before  the  eyes,  and  regretted  my  hurry,  resolving  that 
I  would  hereafter  time  my  marches  in  a  more  rational 
tempo  and  allow  myself  more  leisure  for  sightseeing. 

I  stopped  in  once  place,  regardless  of  consequences, 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  163 

to  view  a  spot  made  interesting  to  me  by  association  dur- 
ing a  trip  some  years  before.  At  this  time  a  Swedish 
student  and  myself  had  traversed  this  very  same  place 
in  the  opposite  direction,  and  it  was  here  that  we  met 
half  a  dozen  English  ladies  coming  along  in  single  file  a 
rod  or  so  apart  and,  as  it  proved,  on  pretty  mischief 
bent.  My  friend'  the  Swede,  like  all  well-bred  Swedes, 
was  nothing  if  not  polite.  Upon  passing  the  first  lady 
he  lifted  his  cap  and  made  a  sweeping  bow,  nearly  graz- 
ing the  ground  in  the  noble  performance.  The  lady,  not 
used  to  such  obeisance  in  the  wilds,  was  actually  startled 
and  forgot  herself,  walking  stiffly  on  without  even  nodding 
in  return.  Our  man,  nothing  daunted,  repeated  the 
action,  but  the  next  lady  came  prepared  and  recognized 
the  effort,  but  seemed  to  find  it  impossible  to  smother  a 
dimple  or  two.  The  third  one  greeted  him  with  un- 
disguised mirth,  so  did  the  fourth,  and  all  the  rest ;  but, 
he,  being  a  born  aristocrat  and  bred  a  gentleman  to  the 
bone,  remained  grave  as  a  judge,  carrying  out  the  pro- 
gram unflinchingly  and  with  equal'  grace  to  the  end. 
The  face  of  the  last  lady  was  pitiful  to  see,  for  it  was 
all  torn  between  suppressed  laughter  and  tears,  the  latter 
being,  however,  luckily,  not  caused  by  any  sort  of  sor- 
row. At  the  close  I  felt  like  expostulating,  but  remem- 
bered suddenly  that  I  had  adopted  another  ridiculous 
extreme,  having  done  nothing  but  gape ;  hence  said 
nothing ;  nor  did  he. 

I  would  fain  have  lingered  here  indefinitely,  indulg- 
ing in  retrospective  mirth,  but  time  was  flying  and  so 
must  I ;  which  I  did,  and  faster  than  ever.  I  had  de- 
termined not  to  make  another  halt ;  but  when  the  beauti- 
ful district  of  Eide,  basking  on  its  greenish  slopes  with 
picturesque  mountains  beyond  and  the  lovely  fjord  b.e- 


164 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


Drawing    by    E.    Biorn. 


Gallantry  in  the  mountains. 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  165 

neath,  burst  upon  my  view,  I  involuntarily  stopped  short 
and  gazed  enraptured  at  the  scene.  Nothing  could  be 
finer,  I  thought,  and  even  if  there  were,  this  was  fine 
enough.  Each  place  retains  its  own  charm,  not  borrowed 
from  another.  Some  tourists  are,  I  think,  apt  to  be 
quite  too  coldblooded  in  their  valuation  of  scenery,  which 
moves  me  again  to  say :  Let  each  place  be  considered  by 
itself  without  killing  its  individuality  by  cool,  calculating, 
mathematical  comparison. 

Upon  reaching  sea-level  the  road  became  wide  and 
smooth,  having  adapted  itself  thus  in  deference  to  the 
extra  traffic  imposed  upon  it  here.  I  might  not  run  upon 
it  for  fear  of  arousing  alarm  among  the  passers-by,  but 
I  performed  the  most  effective  walking  "stunts"  of  which 
I  was  capable.  Many  a  one  I  met  hungered  for  a  chat, 
and  for  a  chance  to  find  out  something  about  me;  but 
it  was  no  use  talking,  I  had  to  be  excused  this  time,  and 
reached  the  landing  place  much  too  early  —  yes  with  a 
full  twenty  minutes  to  spare.  I  felt  sorry  for  those 
inquisitive  persons  trudging  on  back  there  on  the  road, 
puzzling  their  heads  about  me,  for  I  could  so  easily  have 
spared  the  time  to  enlighten  them  as  to  the  cause  of  my 
haste  had  I  but  been  previously  assured  of  those  extra 
minutes.  I  rested  most  deliciously ;  I  could  not  have 
obtained  such  delightful  sensations  in  a  more  deliberate 
way,  this  being  the  only  course  to  take  to  earn  such 
reward.  I  was  stared  at  for  being  an  American,  how- 
ever, and  as  I  was  in  a  peculiar  mood,  I  resented  it; 
for  was  I  not  of  their  own  blood  and  features?  What 
if  our  fare  had  not  been  unmixed  with  cornbread  and 
our  clothes  could  not  boast  of  being  homespun?  Per- 
haps I  was  somewhat  different,  but  how  they  could  imme- 
diately find  me  out  remained  ever  a  mystery.  I  hon- 


l66  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

estly    tried    to    do    as    they    did,    but    the    result    was 
unsatisfactory. 

The  little  steamer  accommodatingly  lowered  its 
gang-plank  to  receive  passengers  and  freight,  all  in  seem- 
ing inextricable  conf usfon ;  but  I  at  last  disentangled 
myself  from  the  chaotic  mass  and  was  soon  seated  at  a 
table  forward,  among  a  crowd  of  rural  folk.  There  were 
several  very  modest-looking  old  men  seated  near,  and  I 
contrived  to  shift  my  position  so  as  to  join  their  circle. 
I  imagined  that  they  were  delegates  to  some  church  gath- 
ering or  other.  They  were  splendid  talkers.  Their 
mastery  of  idiom  and  their  eccentricities  of  speech  were 
delightful.  They  knew  numberless  sayings  and  proverbs, 
which  they  applied  now  and  then  with  telling  effect. 
Being  familiar  with  their  dialect,  it  was  a  rare  treat 
for  me  to  listen  to  them.  In  fact,  nowhere  is  language 
of  any  kind  so  aptly  used  as  in  the  rural  districts  when 
handled  by  clever  manipulators  unspoiled  by  outside 
influences.  I  had  half  an  hour  of  continuous  delight, 
but  imagine  my  consternation  and  horror  when  these  old 
"grave-diggers"  suddenly  took  to  swearing  "blue  streaks" 
at  something  that  particularly  stirred  their  feelings  and 
demanded  the  employment  of  stronger  expressions.  I 
could  not  believe  my  own  ears,  but  as  one  explosion 
followed  another  and  there  appeared  to  be  material  for 
more,  I  could  not  deny  the  evidence  of  my  senses  and 
was .  obliged  to  set  down  these  sanctimonious,  silver 
haired  veterans  as  masters  in  profanity.  The  air  sud- 
denly grew  thick  and  oppressive,  and  I  hurried  up  on 
deck,  fearing  to  remain  in  the  inferno  beneath.  Why  did 
we  not  warn  them?  If  they  had  fallen  overboard  no 
doubt  we  should  all  have  jumped  to  their  rescue ;  but 
now  that  they  were  galloping  recklessly  into  soul- 


WALKING   TRIPS   IN    NORWAY  l6/ 

jeopardy,  searing  and  burning  others  as  they  went,  none 
dared  raise  a  voice  in  protest.  Our  moral  courage  was 
at  very  low  ebb.  Oh  for  an  excuse  to  be  out  of  it,  and 
away  from  the  upbraidings  of  our  consciences !  A  word 
of  warning,  tendered  in  love,  would  no  doubt  have  met 
with  a  response  in  the  spirit  it  was  given. 

There  were  scarcely  any  houses  to  be  seen  near  the 
shore-line  as  we  drew  on  towards  Eidsf  jord,  the  scenery 
here  somewhat  resembling  parts  of  Sognefjord,  though 
perhaps  not  quite  so  precipitous  and  bare.  As  a  whole, 
the  district  of  Hardanger  shows  greater  variety  of 
scenery  than  can  be  found  anywhere  in  the  country 
within  an  equal  area.  Among  other  attractions  the  great 
waterfalls  for  which  I  now  was  bound,  enhance  the  gen- 
eral effect  and  draw  hither  a  great  number  of  tourists. 

We  disembarked  at  Eidsfjord  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  upon  hearing  that  one  might  view  V0rings- 
fos  and  return  that  same  day,  I  immediately  struck 
out,  and  as  usual,  afoot.  A  large  party  of  English  tour- 
ists, with  drivers,  started  out  also  at  the  same  time  and 
from  the  same  place.  They  left  me  on  the  trot  and  I 
felt  lonesome,  just  then.  Before  reaching  the  fall  theie 
is  an  incline  continuing  for  several  miles,  and  upon 
reaching  this,  imagine  my  surprise  when  I  not  only  over- 
took the  whole  procession,  but  passed  them  all,  and  had 
viewed  the  fall  from  all  points  before  the  laggards 
appeared,  with  their  ponies  hanging  their  heads  as  if 
ashamed. 

The  falls  are  hidden  away  at  the  termination  of  a 
deep,  sinuous  valley,  where  it  comes  to  a  sudden 
stop  and  surprises  the  river  into  taking  a  mighty  leap, 
forming  in  the  act  V0ringsfos.  To  see  such  a  mass  of 
water  tossed  helplessly  in  air  gives  one  a  feeling  of  awe 


l68  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

as  the  eye  follows  its  flight  and  contemplates  its  dread- 
ful downward  drop  of  many  hundred  feet.  It  was  en- 
compassed by  perpendicular  granite  walls,  thousands  of 
feet  high,  these  continuing  along  the  valley,  following 
its  circuitous  course.  Though  standing  several  hundred 
feet  from  it,  the  fall  kept  its  spray  circling  about  us, 
and  the  faces  of  the  surrounding  rocks  forever  bathed 
in  tears.  The  eyes  became  very  moist,  and  whether  it 
was  produced  from  humidity  within  or  without,  cannot 
be  determined ;  but  surely  I  was  much  moved  by  the 
wondrous  spectacle.  Shall  we  ever  fully  appreciate  the 
import  of  its  message? 

After  a  short  rest  I  started  back,  hoping  to  remain 
ahead  of  the  caravan  returning  to  Eidsfjord,  so  as  to 
avoid  swallowing  all  the  dust  I  knew  those  two' hundred 
Englishmen  would  raise  when  they  came  flying  down 
grade.  But  I  did  not  succeed.  Seventy-nine  vehicles 
claimed  the  right-of-way,  and  I,  being  a  pedestrian,  was 
pushed  aside  and  left  to  inhale  the  dust  that  their  ponies 
spitefully  turned  up  and  flung  at  me  as  they  sped  by. 
With  the  eightieth  carriage,  ten  o'clock  at  night,  I  made 
my  entrance  into  town,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  unbeaten. 
The  distance  both  ways  was  twenty-two  miles. 

It  occurred  to  me  to  ask  some  farmers  living  in  the 
vicinity  what  they  thought  about  the  waterfall,  upon 
which  they  surprised  me  by  saying  cheerfully  and  un- 
blushingly  that  they  had  never  seen  it.  This  reminded 
me  of  a  similar  incident  occurring  in  Egypt.  .  After  I 
had  climbed  the  Pyramids,  I  was  told  that  the  Khedive 
and  many  others  living  near  by  had  never  taken  the 
trouble  to  climb  them.  I  have  since  asked  myself : 
Have  I,  and  many  others  well  known  to  me,  who  were 
born  and  raised  in  the  same  vicinity,  ever  taken  much 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  169 

trouble  to  view  the  wonders  of  the  mighty  Father  of 
Waters,  flowing  by  our  doors,  or  other  interesting  sights 
near  our  thresholds?  "Distance  lends  enchantment." 

The  next  morning  found  me  aboard  a  boat  again, 
and  anything  more  delightful  than  these  short  steamer 
trips  in  the  beautiful  fjords  of  Hardanger  can  scarcely 
be  imagined.  The  tourists  from  foreign  parts  are  usually 
quiet  and  well-bred  folk,  intent  on  making  the  most  of 
the  scenery ;  and  the  other  passengers,  the  natives,  are 
generally  equally  modest  and  reserved,  there  being  sel- 
dom any  bluster,  bombast  or  braggadocio  in  their  bear- 
ing. Our  profane  companions  of  yesterday,  though  rep- 
resenting no  inconsiderable  class,  do  not  belong  to  the 
majority.  I  could  almost  imagine  how  it  feels  to  be  a 
great  man  when  I  was  among  these  people,  for  all  deemed 
it  an  honor  to  converse  with  the  American.  It  was  my 
privilege  to  open  and  close  all  interviews  quite  according 
to  my  fancy.  How  easily  may  we  not  grow  inconsid- 
erate and  selfish  under  such  circumstances !  There  was 
much  to  see  as  well  as  much  to  hear  during  our  erratic 
cruise  in  and  out  the  bays,  the  inlets  and  fjordlets,  but 
to  tell  of  it  is  one  thing,  and  to  enjoy  and  experience  it 
another — and  better. 


The  Wonders  of  the  Waterfalls 

TWAS  landed  in  the  afternoon  at  Tysso,  which  marks 
the  beginning  of  the  road  leading  to  the  great 
Skjaggedals  fos,  considered  by  many  to  be  the  grand- 
est in  Norway.  I  walked  up  the  incline  in  the  company 
of  an  old  contractor  from  Voss  who  commented  most  in- 
telligently on  the  building  industry  in  the  kingdom. 
Because  of  the  great  supply  of  building  material  the 
people  of  former  years  had  been  prodigal  and  wasteful 
in  its  use,  while  now  they  were  becoming  fully  awake  to 
its  value  and  scarcity.  The  old-fashioned  barns  con- 
tained enough  mammoth  logs  to  build  structures  of  five 
times  their  dimensions,  and  equally  well.  And  many  of 
the  houses,  even  though  clapboarded,  ceiled  and  wains- 
coted, had  logs  hidden  away  in  the  walls.  Owing  to  the 
increasing  call  for  lumber  and  the  lack  of  supply  caused 
by  forest  depletion,  sawed  lumber  is  coming  more  and 
more  into  use,  and  somewhat  cheaper  and  flimsier  build- 
ing methods  adopted.  Artistically  considered,  many  of 
the  moderately  expensive  frame  houses  of  Norway  com- 
pare very  favorably  with  ours.  There  it  little  of  ostenta- 
tion and  display,  but  the  pretty  verandas  and  the  rather 
widely  overlapping  tile  or  slate  roofs  give  a  fine  effect. 
We  could  scarcely  hear  each  other's  voices  as  we 
walked  along,  the  water  in  the  raging  stream  (Tysso 
river)  having  evidently  gone  mad  from  its  8oo-foot  fall 
at  Skjaggedals  fos.  These  Norwegian  mountain  streams 
are  the  most  unruly  of  any  in  the  world,  I  verily  believe. 

(170) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  IJl 

To  attempt  to  describe  them  adequately  would  be  futile. 
They  must  be  seen  as  well  as  heard  to  be  appreciated. 

We  appeared  at  the  hotel  situated  on  Skjaggedals 
lake  after  a  strenuous,  lung-expanding  walk  of  one  and 
one-half  hours.  The  outlet  of  this  lake  has  been  dammed 
up  several  feet,  enormously  increasing  the  holding 
capacity  of  its  basin.  Otherwise  it  would  be  likely  to 
run  dry  in  winter.  Two  two-foot  pipes  many  miles  in 
length  lead  downward,  conveying  water  and  furnishing 
power  to  drive  the  dynamos  below.  We  saw  where  the 
water  entered  ever  so  quietly  into  the  pipes,  and  con- 
trasted it  with  the  fearful  hubbub  and  racket  it  causes 
at  the  other  end,  among  the  generators,  and  their  child, 
the  great  electrically  driven  factory  in  Odda,  six  miles 
distant.  It  was  an  inspiring  yet  weird  sight  to  see  these 
huge  pipes  twining  in  and  out  serpent-like  among  the 
mountains,  carrying  their  burden  of  terrific  force  so 
silently  and  unostentatiously  along.  The  farmer  who 
happened  to  own  the  river-outlet,  the  lake  and  the  fos 
(falls)  may  be  said  to  have  struck  a  gold-mine  when 
the  power  plant  was  installed.  He  need  not  worry  for  a 
living  any  more.  Yet  I  was  told  that  the  concessions 
were  obtained  ridiculously  cheap.  But  why  should  he 
be  paid  such  a  very  stiff  price  ?  To  him  alone,  as  he  pre- 
viously sat  there,  the  whole  stupendous  water-power  was 
worth,  so  to  speak,  absolutely  nothing ;  but  to  the  world, 
when  harnessed,  its  value  can  hardly  be  estimated. 

The  son  and  heir  of  the  lucky  farmer  ferried  me 
across  the  lake  in  his  motor-boat  for  two  crowns.  It 
took  us  a  half-hour  to  reach  the  falls.  His  father  and 
mother  and  sister  and  a  girl  from  Voss  were  making  hay 
near  by,  and  these  he  joined,  leaving  me,  absent-mind- 
edly, to  get  lost  among  the  stones  or  anywhere  else  I 


1^2  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

might  prefer.  It  may  be  surmised  that  henceforth  he 
saw  only  the  black-eyed  one  from  the  north. 

Some  remarkable  cataclysm  in  nature  had  taken 
place  here  as  in  so  many  other  places  visited,  in  that 
millions  of  rock  fragments  lay  scattered  in  my  way,  so 
that  it  was  very  difficult  to  come  near  the  falls.  Yet  I 
climbed  till  the  spray  dashed  cold  on  my  face,  and  my 
clothes  glistened  from  the  tiny  specks  of  moisture,  ap- 
pearing as  if  bedecked  with  pearls.  The  main  body  of 
water  fell,  a  placid  blue,  over  the  brink,  but  soon  stretched 
into  flimsy  shreds,  turning  whiter  and  whiter  as  it  fell. 
Dense  columns  of  a  darker  hue  came  bounding  from 
above,  piercing  the  whitish  mass,  being  apparently  heavier 
than  the  other.  As  the  water  dashed  into  the  seething 
caldron  below,  masses  of  foam  arose  with  incredible 
swiftness,  reaching  out  in  various  directions  and  partak- 
ing of  all  imaginable  shapes  and  motions. 

To  be  within  a  hairbreadth  of  being  swallowed  up 
makes  a  sensitive  person  feel  queer,  or  rattled,  or  —  yes, 
alarmed,  and  sometimes  downright  scared.  The  moment 
one  cannot  remain  calm,  but  becomes  thus  possessed,  it 
is  well  to  hurry  away  from  the  beckoning  arms,  the  call- 
ing voices;  dizziness  or  faintness  is  generally  nigh.  I 
gazed  my  fill,  but  turned  to  look  again  and  again  at  this 
wonder,  seemingly  brought  into  being  by  the  merest 
accident,  just  an  irregularity  among  the  rocks  serving  to 
produce  it.  .  At  thought  of  this  I  realized  more  fully  how 
pregnant  with  possibilities  everything  about  us  may  be. 

The  twin  falls,  Tyssestrengene,  situated  a  couple  of 
miles  or  so  from  Skjaggedalsfos,  are  remarkable  not  so 
much  for  size  as  for  their  great  similarity  to  each  other. 
They  look  very  nearly  alike  and  fall  several  hundred 
feet  straight  down,  and  are  but  a  very  short  distance 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  173 

apart.  They  attract  the  attention  of  all  comers  and  are 
considered  by  some  quite  as  interesting  as  the  great  fall 
itself. 

As  we  left  the  fos  and  were  puffing  along  the  lake 
in  our  little  motor-boat  I  discovered,  as  I  thought,  a 
flock  of  birds  high  up  the  mountain-side  and  inacces- 
sible, as  it  seemed,  to  any  creature  without  wings.  After 
further  scrutiny  it  developed  that  they  were  nothing  but 
goats ;  remarkable  birds  indeed  had  they  borne  wings. 
They  seem  to  place  no  weight  on  the  value  of  existence, 
looking  upon  danger  with  serene  indifference ;  they  walk, 
jump  or  slide  from  rock  to  rock  with  apparent  abandon, 
regarding  the  precipices  and  awful  depths  in  reckless 
abstraction.  They  are  after  the  grass,  and  nearly  always 
get  it  without  troubling  themselves  about  the  scenery. 
There  are  nearly  300,000  of  them  in  Norway.  But  owing 
to  their  depredations  among  growing  trees  and  their 
obnoxious  ways  otherwise,  they  are  getting  to  be  unpop- 
ular and  are  in  some  districts  being  told  to  leave. 

Late  that  night,  at  about  one  o'clock,  I  reached 
Odda  by  steamer,  having  embarked  at  Tysso  a  couple  of 
hours  earlier.  Tall  mountains  hem  in  the  place,  looking 
down  rather  frowningly  from  their  lofty  positions.  The 
mighty  Folgefond  marches  by  on  the  right,  meeting  the 
blue  above,  and  in  its  immaculate  robe  of  white  looking 
very  far  removed  from  earth.  I  wanted  to  cross  it  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning,  but  no  guides  being  available 
I  found  it  foolhardy  to  attempt  it  alone.  I  could  scarcely 
contain  myself,  being  enthralled  by  its  grandeur  and  lofty 
repose.  I  would  fain  have  mounted  and  explored  its 
vast  silent  halls,  but  circumstances  being  thus  unfavor- 
able, I  was  obliged  to  enjoy  it  as  best  I  might  from 
below.  It  sends  a  feeler  down  to  Bua  which  is  called  the 


1.74 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  175 

Buar-bra,  and  this  I  visited  and  was  greatly  impressed. 
It  reaches  down  to  within  a  few  hundred  feet  above  sea 
level,  adjacent  fields  of  ripened  grain  edging  up  to  the 
very  mouth  of  the  glacier.  It  is  *  said  that  where  the 
great  drift  now  sits  was  formerly  a  populated  valley; 
and  in  proof  of  this  it  is  claimed  that  household  articles 
have  come  to  light  in  the  dirty  stream  spewed  out  of  the 
glacier's  mouth.  But  few  really  believe  it  to  have  been 
a  fact,  though  the  story  is  tenaciously  clung  to  and  oft 
repeated,  generation  after  generation.  The  glacier  arm 
at  Bua  never  remains  quiet,  but  pushes  gradually  lower, 
displacing  mighty  boulders  and  sparing  nothing  in  its 
resistless  course.  The  glacier  mouth  from  which  the 
stream  gushes  out  is  fantastically  formed,  the  slowly 
thawing,  corrugated,  highly  fissured  mass  showing  both 
horns  and  teeth  in  its  extremity.  A  Danish  journalist 
and  I  started  to  climb  it,  but  were  so  awed  by  its  frigjit- 
ful  countenance  that  we  grew  quite  hysterically  inclined 
before  we  were  again  safely  away  from  it. 

Odda  has  several  hundred  inhabitants  and  is  a 
thrifty  place,  owing  its  thrift  largely  to  the  tourist  traffic 
and  still  more,  perhaps  to  the  employment  of  many  of 
the  people  in  the  carbide  factories.  The  German  em- 
peror very  frequently  touched  at  this  point  on  his  visits 
to  Norway. 

The  people  here  had  a  more  worldly-wise  look  than 
is  usually  noted  in  the  more  isolated  districts.  They 
glanced  at  the  stranger  rather  more  brazenly,  but  with 
less  curiosity.  Ordinarily,  however,  the  people  in  the 
average  Norwegian  town  are  a  good-naturedly  curious 
lot.  When  they  see  a  stranger  they  look  him  over  famil- 
iarly, taking  their  time  to  do  so  and  appear  not  at  all 
abashed  if  caught  in  the  act.  Even  in  the  larger  places 


176  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

strangers  are  scrutinized  rather  closely  —  so  much  so 
that  when  arriving  at  Copenhagen  and  the  German  and 
French  cities,  I  remember  slightly  resenting  being  so 
entirely  overlooked,  never  being  noticed  at  all.  There 
the  stranger  is  lost  in  the  general  throng,  while  Norway, 
lying  well  out  of  the  way  of  the  great  transcontinental 
traffic  must  needs  sit  up  and  notice  all  her  guests. 

From  Odda  to  Seljestad  I  walked  most  of  the  way 
without  the  usual  accompaniment  of  raging  rivers,  but 
had  Folgefond,  performing  at  its  best  in  the  shifting  hues 
of  morning,  noon  and  night,  continually  on  my  right. 
There  was  a  gradual  ascent,  and  bits  of  pretty  scenery 
were  continually  appearing  and  disappearing.  And  I 
never  grew  tired  of  turning  to  look  at  the  panorama  be- 
hind as  it  grew  and  expanded,  becoming  finally  so 
extensive  that  it  required  too  long  a  time  altogether  to 
give  to  it  its  full  meed  of  appreciation.  The  curving  road 
hid  me  altogether  away,  at  times,  till  I  grew  fearful  as  to 
the  outcome,  but  unexpectedly  there  would  open  vistas 
of  glory  all  unannounced,  to  lift  up  my  spirits  and  to 
reassure  me  in  my  path-finding  instinct.  Thus  would 
come  to  view  my  much  admired  panorama  from  the 
north,  again  and  again,  to  cheer  me  on,  Folgefond,  mean- 
while, keeping  certain  step  and  from  her  sun-kissed  crest 
smiling  benignly  down.  When  I  finally  reached  a  certain 
eminence,  or  height  of  land,  away  up  among  the  clouds, 
the  path  imperceptibly  let  me  down,  and  upon  my  turn- 
ing to  enjoy  again  my  favorite  view,  lo  and  behold !  it 
was  gone,  and  there  was  nothing  but  the  tiniest  speck 
on  the  bald-headed  top  of  my  dear  old  drift  to  be  seen. 
It  made  me  very  lonesome,  and  I  had  no  desire  what- 
ever to  court  a  new  favorite  in  the  mood  I  was  then  in. 
Besides,  it  was  growing  late  and  I  was  obliged  to  hasten, 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


177 


178  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

looking  but  superficially  at  what  I  passed,  and  arriving 
a  bit  tired  after  my  twenty-five  mile  walk  at  the  door- 
step of  Seljestad  hotel  at  nine  o'clock  at  night. 

Some  complain  of  sleeplessness  when  wooing  Mor- 
pheus in  the  heights,  but  this  happened  seldom  in  my 
case ;  yet  I  must  own  to  visiting  the  strangest  dream 
country  imaginable,  at  times,  and  not  the  least  during  the 
night  spent  at  Seljestad.  I  dreamt  of  endless  roads,  of 
mountains  turned  inside  out,  with  roots  reaching  to  the 
South  Pole;  of  glaciers  cracked  all  to  pieces  and  snow- 
drifts melting  as  fast  as  snow  flakes,  and  the  resulting 
flood  hurrying  to  fill  the  voids.  It  was  all  so  mysterious 
and  wonderful.  Though  consciousness  seems  quite  apart 
from  our  dream  creations,  yet  the  brain  must  needs  in- 
dulge their  pranks  and  the  memory  retain  the  impres- 
sions. 

Leaving  the  hotel  merely  a  dollar  poorer  than  when 
I  came,  I  found  myself  in  good  spirits  when  about  nine 
o'clock  the  next  morning.  I  took  the  road  which  leads 
to  R01dal.  I  soon  busied  myself  as  usual  in  looking 
eagerly  for  new  sights  and  storing  away  yesterday's 
memories  in  the  same  drawer  together  with  the  dreams, 
to  be  referred  to  at  leisure.  The  brain  was  busy  build- 
ing new  shelves  for  fresh  impressions  continually  pour- 
ing in,  and  had  little  time  for  retrospections  in  the  midst 
of  such  work. 

The  road  is  carefully  graded  all  the  way,  the  incline 
being  kept  as  nearly  as  possible  at  a  comfortable  angle, 
enabling  the  pedestrian  to  walk  either  way  without  much 
effort.  As  we  near  the  R01dal  valley,  the  depression  be- 
comes sudden  and  the  road  must  necessarily  turn  and 
twist  very  frequently  to  enable  it  to  keep  the  proper 
incline.  Its  sinous  course  suggested  a  huge  yellow  ser- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  179 

pent  streching  as  if  to  plunge  its  forked  tongue  into  the 
cool,  shimmering  fjord  'below.  There  was  a  short-cut 
right  across,  one  good  enough  to  use  a  hundred  years 
ago,  and  this  I  ventured  out  upon  so  as  to  avoid  some 
of  the  distance  of  the  wagon  road  I  saw  tourists  on 
wheels  spinning  down  and  onwards  several  hundred  rods 
ahead,  but  pursuing  my  bee-line  I  soon  trippingly  passed 
them,  leaving  them  sadly  in  the  rear  and  with  long 
faces. 

Arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  Breifond  Hotel,  I  over- 
took two  little  tots,  black  of  face  and  hands,  who  were 
picking  and  eating  blueberries.  We  regarded  each  other 
with  mutual  surprise.  I  could  not  help  laughing,  which 
they  did  not  quite  understand,  but  finally  their  faces 
broke  into  little  smiles,  which  made  them,  bedaubed  as 
they  were,  funnier  still.  Upon  my  asking  them  if  I  was 
still  in  Hardanger,  they  answered  after  much  deliber- 
ation :  "No,  you  are  in  Norway  now." 

Norway  could  furnish  the  world  with  blueberries  if 
only  the  price  made  it  worth  while  to  pick  them.  There 
are  thousands  and  thousands  of  square  miles  of  un- 
broken highland  where,  save  for  the  intrusion  of  a  few 
modest  cows,  some  sheep  and  goats,  berries  of  various 
kinds  grow  unmolested  in  great  quantities.  The  170,000 
Norwegian  deer  scattered  throughout  the  country,  and 
especially  towards  the  north,  feed  mostly  on  mountain 
moss,  eating  no  berries,  so  far  as  I  know.  Birds,  of 
which  there  are  many,  no  doubt  eat  them.  The  ptar- 
migan is  the  greatest  game  bird  of  Norway  and  attracts 
numerous  hunters  abroad,  and  he  surely  does  not  hold 
himself  too  good  to  partake  of  the  feast  so  plentifully 
spread  before  him.  Insects  are  not  so  numerous  in  these 
regions  as  with  us;  hence  the  song  birds  as  well  as  the 


ISO  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

game  birds — there  are  lap-wings,  plover,  teal,  snipe,  loon 
—  must  make  the  most  of  what  is  given  them,  though 
they  agree  with  all  other  birds  that  the  little  bug  and  the 
fat  worm  are  the  most  delectable  bird-fare  in  all  the 
world.  We  boys  on  the  farm  always  had  an  idea  that 
snakes  liked  strawberries ;  here,  the  snakes  are  few,  but 
not  without  venom,  and  it  is  not  at  all  likely  that  they 
obtain  their  poisonous  secretion  from  so  sweet  a  fruit. 
The  mountain  strawberry  has  a  peculiarly  rich  flavor. 
There  are  no  katydids,  or  few,  if  any,  insects  that  make 
noises  at  night  —  how  I  missed  them  during  harvest 
time !  —  and  thus  the  grass  and  the  berries  grow  safe 
and  secure  from  such  enemies.  There  is  scarcely  a 
house-fly,  but  many  a  fierce  long-legged  mosquito  with 
a  pitch-fork  in  its  mouth;  but  as  these  like  best  to  suck 
blood,  berries  and  fruit  generally  are  unmolested  by 
them.  There  are  not  a  few  rabbits,  but  no  skunks, 
and  there  might  be  a  billion  rabbits  and  yet  the  berries 
would  show  no  sign  of  their  depredations.  Nature  is 
lavish  in  her  waste,  producing  much  that  appears  not  to 
be  needed,  while  the  poor  farmer  is  not  able,  by  far,  to 
coax  forth  the  amount  of  grain  necessary  for  home  con- 
sumption, large  amounts  having  to  be  shipped  in  from 
other  countries.  The  area  given  over  to  the  mountain 
wastes  and  the  practically  barren  highlands  exceeds  the 
cultivated  soil  and  uplands  many  times  over.  The  moun- 
tain wilds,  consisting  largely  of  snow,  bogs,  glaciers  and 
lakes,  where  scarcely  anything  grows  except  moss,  con- 
stitute nearly  two-thirds  of  the  area  of  the  country, 
which  is  124,500  square  miles  in  all.  Of  woodland  there 
are  26,000  square  miles.  Though  the  snow  and  ice  ter- 
ritory is  apparently  more  useless  than  the  berry  region, 
it  is  a  very  valuable  asset  for  it  is  the  seat  of  unlimited 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  l8l 

power  possibilities  and,  as  already  mentioned,  promises 
in  the  future  to  make  Norway  perhaps  the  greatest 
available  power  source  in  the  world. 

The  little  toddlers  grew  to  like  me,  it  seemed,  for 
they  quit  their  present  occupation  and  undertook  to  be 
my  guides  although  I  had  hardly  expressed  any  such 
desire  regarding  them.  But  although  it  proved  that  I 
was  the  better  guide  myself,  I  accepted  their  company 
with  much  pleasure;  and  forbore  to  make  remark. 
They  told  me  that  their  mamma  was  the  nicest  person 
they  had  seen,  but  that  she  did  not  like  to  have  them  take 
these  long  berry-hunting  trips  because  they  might  fall 
and  get  hurt,  and,  besides,  it  meant  a  great  deal  of 
patching  for  her  to  do  on  stocking-heels,  knees,  and 
other  places  behind  and  before.  They  had  promised  to 
be  extra  good  today,  which,  however,  their  toilettes  sadly 
belied.  The  darlings  would  prove  rather  tough  speci- 
mens for  the  weary  mother  to  make  clean  and  tidy. 
They  told  me  that  she  was  that  day  storing  up  a  supply 
of  peat  from  the  peatbog  in  the  valley  below.  They  had 
little  else  to  cook  with,  they  said.  Their  father  was  the 
biggest  man  they  knew  of  and  such  a  great  workman 
that  he  could  go  out  and  make  from  fifty  to  seventy-five 
cents  a  day,  with  which  he  would  buy  flour,  clothes  and 
such  stuff  to  take  home  with  him.  There  were  eleven 
children,  and  if  there  was  not  anything  else,  there  was 
always  good  rye  mush  and  sour  milk  to  eat.  They 
thought  they  had  it  very  nice,  they  said.  God  bless 
them,  so  they  had.  We  parted  to  the  clattering  accom- 
paniment of  their  little  wooden  shoes,  which  clung  to 
their  feet  in  the  most  marvellous  manner,  held  in  place 
chiefly  by  their  toes. 

As  I  neared  Breifond  Hotel  an  excellent  view  of 


•I&2  WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY 

R01dal  and  its  lake  was  had  in  the  direction  of  Haukelid 
mountains,  where  lies  the  famous  Haukelid  saeter. 
Many  tourists  seek  this  place,  though  perhaps  not  quite 
so  numerously  now  as  formerly.  Many  cross  the  moun- 
tains by  this  route.  Whether  it  was  a  Mrs.  Oilwells  or 
Coppermine,  I  cannot  say,  but  not  so  very  long  ago  the 
road  was  blockaded  by  vast  snowslides,  which  was 
deemed  very  unfortunate  by  the  lady  in  question,  for 
she  wanted  to  pass  just  where  that  snow  lay.  The  road 
waited  to  be  opened  up  by  the  proper  authorities,  but 
the  process  seemed  too  slow  for  our  fellow-citizeness 
with  such  a  lot  of  money  to  spend ;  so  she  telephoned,  or 
telegraphed,  for  laborers  by  the  score,  and  soon  the  path 
was  clear,  enabling  her  to  satisfy  her  whim  and  resume 
her  journey  a  day  or  so  earlier.  The  workmen  were  lib- 
erally paid,  but  what  queer  ideas  must  they  not  have 
regarding  us  and  our  inborn  restlessness  that  cannot  bide 
.a  wee,  or  possess  itself  in  patience,  but  must  resist  and 
do  battle  with  Nature's  grandest  forces  for  a  mere  whim ! 
The  Norwegians  note  our  restless  activity,  our  fierce 
struggles  for  wealth  and  power,  with  great  calm,  without 
jealousy,  knowing  full  well  that  we  are  paying  quite  too 
dearly  for  our  whistles.  But  mark  again :  when  these 
quiet,  deliberate  persons  embark  for  our  shores  they  soon 
catch  our  spirit  and  become  just  as  aggressive  seekers 
for  plums  as  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

At   Botten   and   Elsewhere 

a  bite  of  bread  and  cheese  and  a  cheerful 
chat  with  the  buxom  lady  manager,  I  left  the 
pretty  Breifond  Hotel,  so  cosily  set  on  its  hill, 
to  make  the  trip  to  Botten,  which  I  could  see  glimpses 
of  at  the  end  of  the  south  arm  of  the  lake.  I  found 
it  warm  walking,  however,  this  August  day,  on  the 
edge  of  the  temperate  zone  in  the  far  north.  I  kept 
to  the  white,  dusty  road  curving  along  the  lake  on  the 
right,  with  the  mountains  so  placed  as  to  assist  in  the 
bombardment  of  the  sun's  rays  on  my  head  —  an  unex- 
pected trial  of  my  endurance.  Though  accustomed  to 
heat  at  home,  one  naturally  resents  its  tagging  along  here 
where,  according  to  the  map,  it  has  no  right  to  be.  Yet, 
as  we  know,  some  warmth  there  must  be  for  the  ripen- 
ing of  crops,  though  it  be  not  necessarily  Indian  corn. 
The  latter  takes  root  and  makes  a  good  beginning  in 
this  land  of  the  midnight  sun,  but  its  performance  is  a 
miserable  failure  at  the  end.  The  Norwegians  are  happy 
and  satisfied  when  there  is  sufficient  warmth  and  sun- 
light to  ripen  the  small  grain  properly.  There  are  sel- 
dom any  really  hot  days.  Americans  generally  complain 
of  the  moderateness  of  the  midsummer  warmth  in  Nor- 
way, and  are  very  often  seen  with  overcoats  on  their 
backs  and  a  tinge  of  blue  on  face  and  hands. 

Arrived  at  Botten,  I  took  note  of  the  rather  small, 
rudely  built  dwellings,  and  wondered  how  the  people 
here  could  gain  sustenance  on  the  little  stretches  of  soil 

(183) 


j84  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

casually  left  over  at  the  base  of  the  mountains  and  so 
nearly  engulfed  by  the  sea.  Judging  by  the  dwellings, 
one  would  say  it  was  a  very  poor  community,  but  no  one 
I  met  complained  that  it  was  an  unhappy  one.  To  us 
who  are  used  to  much  lavish  waste,  and  who  neglect 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres  of  valuable  ground  by 
the  roadside,  along  our  fences,  and  elsewhere,  it  might 
serve  as  a  lesson  and  an  admonition  to  alter  our  ways, 
when  we  view  the  pitifully  small  farms  of  these  indus- 
trious, hardy  folk.  There  were  patches  no  longer  than 
a  floor,  perched  precariously  on  stony  ledges  and  filled 
with  potato-beds  or  thickly  growing  grain.  Owing  to 
their  intensive  methods  of  cultivation  their  yield  is  much 
greater  than  ours,  acre  for  acre.  We  are  inclined  to 
criticize  at  first,  and  no  doubt  some  American  push  could 
be  used  to  advantage  here  as  elsewhere;  but  I  am  afraid 
that  if  an  American  were  expected  to  make  good  under 
precisely  the  same  conditions  as  some  of  these  least 
favored  ones  have  to  contend  with,  he  would  give  up 
the  task  as  hopeless.  Though  they  are  poor,  these  people 
have  good  schools ;  there  is  no  illiteracy,  the  destitutes  are 
well  provided  for,  and  the  church,  being  supported  by 
the  state,  offers  all  its  advantages  even  to  the  meanest 
comer.  The  climate  is  good,  the  scenery  fine,  and  their 
simple  life  conducive  to  health ;  then  why  should  not 
these  people  be  as  happy  as  any?  They  are. 

As  I  took  the  road  along  the  river  that  had  just 
escaped  from  the  lake,  I  noted  a  house  with  heavy  sods 
for  a  roof,  where  a  small  birch  tree  had  taken  root 
and  was  swaying  gayly  back  and  forth,  furnishing  a 
shield  from  the  sun  immediately  above  the  doorstep. 
The  baby  played  there,  and  the  young  mother  flitted  in 
and  out  the  door,  the  two,  in  combination  with  their 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  I«5 

oddly  ornamented  dwelling  and  the  rich  setting  of  sur- 
rounding scenery,  forming  a  truly  idyllic  picture.  As  I 
walked  on  along  the  river  bank  there  was,  to  my  surprise 
hardly  any  sound  from  the  water,  its  bed  being  com- 
paratively smooth,  causing  scarcely  a  murmur  to  reach 
me.  It  was  clear  as  crystal,  inviting  a  plunge  into  its 
pure,  cool  depths.  It  is  one  of  the  few  placid,  easy- 
going streams  of  Norway,  though  near  its  mouth  it  cuts 
capers  to  surprise  one,  doing  also  the  same  before  enter- 
ing R01dal  lake. 


Drawing    by   E.    Biorn. 
Birch  tree  growing  on  sod-roofed  house. 


There  were  but  few  homes  in  the  narrow  Bratland 
valley,  the  mountains  being  inhospitable,  unwilling  to 
support  anything  upon  their  smooth,  black  sides,  and 
but  little  at  their  bases.  Some  little  birches  had  secured 
foothold  here  and  there,  but  were  unwelcome  and  could 
not  thrive  in  such  uncongenial  surroundings.  The  moun- 
tains had  sleek,  black  sides,  some  mighty  cataclysm,  it 
is  reasonable  to  suppose,  having  at  some  epoch  or  other 
brushed  away  the  roughness.  As  I  drew  near  the  mouth 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


Photo  by   Wilse,  Kristiatiia. 


"Bratlandsdalen" 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  187 

of  the  valley  I  grew  afraid,  the  river  suddenly  taking 
frightful  jumps  and  plunges,  induced  thereto  by  the  in- 
describable roughness  of  its  small  bed  squeezed  into  un- 
mercifully narrow  limits  by  the  pushing,  overbearing 
cliffs.  The  roadway  became  inextricably  tangled  up  in 
the  midst  of  it  all,  and  seemed  forever  butting  up 
against  some  impassible  barrier,  yet  had  a  habit  of  climb- 
ing over,  or  out  from  under,  or  passing  by,  that  which 
would  hinder  its  passage.  In  places  it  seemed  like  enter- 
ing tombs  or  subterranean  crypts,  while  the  swish  and 
turmoil  of  furiously  rushing  water  in  the  adjacent  nar- 
row gorges  sang  a  somber  strain.  I  held  grimly  to  the 
pass,  scarcely  daring  to  take  a  look  around  where  the 
road  edged  near  a  precipice  most  daringly,  or  where  the 
roar  and  hubbub  echoed  most  appallingly.  I  could  not 
imagine  how  vehicles  could  pass  each  other  till  I  noticed 
niches  hewn  out  in  the  rock  wall,  for  this  very  purpose. 
By  and  by  the  gorge  widened,  the  road  found  its  way 
more  easily,  and  it  was  not  long  before  I  came  upon  an 
opening  where  I  saw  spread  before  me  the  Nes  flats 
bordering  on  an  elbow  of  the  beautiful  Suldal  lake. 

After  having  walked  twenty-five  miles  that  day  it 
was  indeed  a  pleasing  sensation,  and  one  rarely  gained  in 
any  other  way,  to  sit  down  and  rest,  enjoying  also  at 
the  same  time,  with  fullest  appreciation,  a  meal.  And  it 
was  as  if  the  other  senses  had  been  stimulated,  for  never 
had  my  ear  more  eagerly  caught  musical  sounds  than 
when  it  received  those  rendered  now  so  harmoniously,  — 
a  beautifully  executed  piano  solo  in  an  adjoining  parlor 
There  must  be  a  certain  pause  between  our  meals  allow- 
ing the  proper  need  and  a  certain  zest  to  be  developed, 
to  enjoy  them;  and  so  it  is,  also,  to  a  certain  extent, 
with  music.  When  we  are  away  from  it  for  awhile  we 


l88  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

acquire  a  veritable  hunger  for  it,  and  when  it  drops  thus 
unexpectedly  on  ears  famished  for  want  of  it,  it  sinks 
deep  into  our  inner  consciousness,  acting  as  a  splendid 
medicine  both  for  soul  and  body.  No  wonder  that 
Luther  placed  beautiful  song  and  music  next  after  the- 
ology as  the  strongest  power  to  uplift  and  revivify 
sunken  spirits.  Mere  snatches  of  song  have  turned  the 
currents  of  men's  lives.  The  melody  that  floated  out 
from  that  parlor  remains  with  me  still ;  it  glorified  the 
hour  and  stamped  itself  and  the  scene  in  my  memory  for- 
ever. 

The  bell  had  rung,  the  gang-plank  had  been  re- 
moved, and  we  were  actually  under  way  when  a  long, 
lank  figure  shot  as  if  from  a  catapult  into  our  very  midst 
on  deck,  scattering  us  like  a  flock  of  geese,  and  causing 
a  sort  of  pandemonium.  It  was  a  young  seminary  stu- 
dent who  had  raced  since  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
to  perform  the  very  stunt  now  completed.  He  was  de- 
luged with  perspiration  and  could  not  talk  for  some 
minutes  on  account  of  his  rapid  breathing.  He  was  on 
his  vacation  and  loved  to  cover  the  countryside  in  just 
such  manner,  having  this  time  out-distanced  many  a 
horse.  But  he  was  none  the  worse  for  wear,  and  proved 
to  be  an  interesting  companion  during  the  night.  In 
America  such  walking  trips,  though  a  most  splendid  form 
of  recreation  and  exercise,  are  well-nigh  unknown,  while 
here  all  classes  indulge  in  them  to  a  greater  or  lesser 
extent.  This  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  reasons  why 
their  complexions  are  so  much  better,  generally,  than 
with  us. 

We  passed  through  Suldals-porten  which  is  a  narrow 
gateway  in  the  lake  where  the  rocks  rise  sheer  several 
hundred  feet  on  both  sides,  scarcely  more  than  a  stone's 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  189 

throw  distant,  to  right  and  left.  An  old-timer  told  me 
that  within  his  memory  the  upper  shelf  on  the  south 
promontory  had  slid  perceptibly,  he  surmising  that  the 
passage  was  not  without  danger.  In  event  of  this  sec- 
tion suddenly  falling  into  the  sea  while  a  boat  was 
crawling  by,  the  tremendous  wave  that  it  would  cause 
would  heave  the  flimsy  craft,  even  a  steamer,  to  destruc- 
tion with  terrific  swiftness.  Once  a  schooner  of  North- 
ern Norway  was  caught  by  such  a  wave,  but  was,  luck- 
ily, thrown  high  and  dry  upon  the  open  land  missing  the 
rocks  and  destruction  by  a  mere  hair's  breadth. 

Upon  landing  at  Osen,  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  about 
ten  o'clock,  my  seminary  friend  and  I  sought  each  other 
out  and  clung  together,  not  wishing  to  be  parted  in  the 
gloom  by  the  merry,  good  natured  loungers  about  the 
wharf.  As  we  were  both  bound  for  Sand  and  eventually 
Stavanger,  we  hired  a  skydskarl  together,  halved  the 
expenses,  and  supplied  each  other  with  company.  The 
road  was  perfect  and  the  scenery  pretty,  but  from  ten  to 
twelve  on  a  moonless  night  in  August  it  is  dark  enough 
to  make  impossible  any  satisfactory  sight-seeing.  As  the 
mantle  of  night  hid  from  us  the  charms  of  nature,  we 
found  solace  in  singing  and  conversation.  As  I  happened 
to  be  familiar  with  the  greater  part  of  the  popular  Nor- 
wegian airs  I  was  able  to  take  part,  though  not  more 
than  hum  a  modest  accompaniment  to  his  splendid  tenor. 
No  country  in  the  world  has  a  richer  collection  of  folk- 
melodies  than  Norway,  and  no  wonder  that  such  an  in- 
tensely loyal  partriot  as  I  found  my  companion  to  be 
should  sing  out  his  very  heart  and  soul  on  a  lovely  night 
like  this.  "Ja  vi  elsker,"  (Yes  we  love  with  fond  de- 
votion) rang  out  over  hill  and  dale  as  never  before;  the 
echo  from  the  distant  hills  rebounded  countlessly  and  was 


IQO  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

finally  borne  softly  back  on  the  wings  of  the  night,  barely 
audible.  The  singing  and  all  nature's  response  was  such 
that  our  spirits  and  thoughts  were  carried  upwards,  and 
it  became  my  privilege  to  listen  to  much  good  preach- 
ment, though  not  intentionally  delivered  as  such. 

My  companion  had  no  higher  ambition  than  to 
qualify  himself  to  impart  to  the  youth  entrusted  to  his 
charge  a  practical,  useful  education,  and  how  to  live  to 
become  good  subjects,  taking  always  for  his  motto  "The 
fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom."  He  told 
me  that  it  had  been  a  blessed  thing  for  all  concerned 
that  the  work  of  education  had  been  carried  on  hand  in 
hand  with  religion,  and  he  looked  with  alarm  at  the 
activity  of  the  modernists  many  of  whom  were  agi- 
tating to  dispense  with  the  latter  in  conjunction  with 
any  and  all  public  school  work.  He  deplored  that  such 
a  vast  number  of  teachers  had  already  been  smitten  by 
the  new  thought,  giving  rise  to  the  very  pernicious, 
merely  perfunctory  method  or  habit  of  imparting  reli- 
gious instruction  in  the  state  schools,  thus  developing 
carelessness  and  finally  unbelief,  not  only  in  themselves 
but  in  the  pupils  as  well.  A  teacher  with  mere  knowl- 
edge, but  utterly  without  heart  in  the  work,  especially 
as  applied  to  instruction  in  the  catechism  and  in  biblical 
courses,  was  a  menace  to  the  community.  Another  cause 
for  alarm  was  the  fact  that  many  of  the  seminaries  them- 
selves were  being  endangered  and  had  actually  adopted 
some  of  the  havoc-working  principles,  and  were  impart- 
ing them  to  their  pupils.  He  mentioned  the  fact  that 
Norway  had  the  honor  of  being  among  the  first  on  the 
list  of  the  nations  in  its  freedom  from  illiteracy.  Then 
why  should  we  cease  to  employ  the  very  agency  to  which 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  IQI 

this  state  of  things  is  mostly  due  —  I  mean,  religious 
instruction  in  the  common  schools? 

I  asked  him  why  he  did  not  come  to  America.  "Me 
to  America !  Norway  needs  me,  and  here  I  stay." 
"America,"  he  continued,  "has  indeed  been  a  good  place 
to  go  to,  and  we  appreciate  what  Norway's  sons  are  do- 
ing abroad,  but  a  great  many  would  have  done  well  to 
have  remained  at  home,  and  had  they  applied  themselves 
with  equal  assiduity,  the  results  would  show  as  large 
here  as  elsewhere.  There  are  needed  a  great  number  of 
men  to  reclaim  waste  lands  and  develop  our  other  re- 
sources, in  this  country,  as  well  as  in  the  far  West. 
And  above  all,  we  need  strong  men  and  women  to  carry 
on  the  grand  work  of  education,  to  disseminate  useful 
worlcly  knowledge  hand  in  hand  with  religious  instruc- 
tion, to  build,  uphold  and  strengthen  everywhere,  both 
materially  and  spiritually.  The  rewards  will  be  large 
enough  to  the  faithful."  He  was  perfectly  loyal  to  his 
own  country,  but  from  none  other  have  I  heard  a  fairer 
estimate  of  ours. 

Just  at  midnight  we  arrived  at  Sand,  where  we 
speedily  found  most  excellent  quarters  at  the  Kaarhus 
Hotel.  To  me  it  had  been  a  memorable  night,  this  young 
man's  creed  and  example  having  profited  me  much  in 
ilustrating  the  truth  that  only  those  who  labor,  not 
merely  for  themselves,  but  for  the  general  good,  live 
lives  that  are  really  worth  while. 

Sand  is  indeed  a  pretty  place,  surrounded  as  it  is  by 
low-lying  green-crested  hills,  with  mountains  peeping 
from  beyond  a  blue  arm  of  the  ocean  reflecting  them  as 
in  a  mirror  and  also  furnishing  a  haven  for  visiting 
ships.  From  Sand  had  come  several  estimable  young 


192  WALKING   TRIPS    JN    NORWAY 

men  who  had  settled  near  my  home  in  America,  and 
remembering  what  splendid  addition  to  our  community 
they  made,  I  looked  upon  their  birth-place  with  interested 
eyes.  How  little  we  realize  just  what  it  means  for  a 
country  like  Norway  to  be  drained,  generation  after 
generation,  of  its  best  blood,  we  invariably  being  the 
gainers.  It  is  true  that  considerable  money  is  sent  home 
by  those  who  have  gone  away,  but  let  no  one  imagine  that 
it  compensates  for  what  is  lost.  Ask  the  old  fathers 
and  mothers  left  alone  in  the  old  homesteads  but  re- 
cently vibrant  with  exuberant  life,  what  they  think  of 
it,  of  the  parting,  the  lonesomeness,  and  the  lack  of  lov- 
ing support.  Mere  money  gifts  or  other  gifts,  however 
liberal,  can  never  replace  the  presence  of  the  children 
themselves.  On  account  of  this  great  exodus  of  the 
young  and  strong,  many  a  little  farm  has  languished  for 
want  of  attention,  the  bent  and  weary  backs  of  the  re- 
maining elders  being  incapable  of  bearing  the  necessary 
burden  of  work  and  care.  We  are  glad  they  come,  .these 
men  and  maids  from  the  North ;  they  make  splendid 
additions  to  our  community,  but  we  can  never  appreciate 
too  highly  the  magnanimity  of  their  fathers  and  mothers, 
of  their  communities  and  the  country,  in  surrendering 
them. 

The  steamer  left  early  in  the  morning  for  Stavanger. 
We  made  several  stops  at  places  such  as  Hjelmeland, 
Tau,  Marvig  and  a  few  more,  and  to  my  intense  delight 
I  thus  came  upon  places  where  various  dialects  with 
which  I  was  familiar  had  their  home  and  origin.  To 
hear  the  shadings  and  intonations  rendered  to  such  a 
nicety  gave  me  the  acutest  pleasure,  and  I  made  it  a  point 
to  converse  with  the  passengers  in  order  to  draw  them 
out,  each  in  his  own  rich  vernacular.  They  seemed  to 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  193 

consider  it  a  privilege  to  talk  with  me,  but  seldom  over- 
stepped the  limits  of  modesty,  this  excellent  virtue  pre- 
vailing here  as  elsewhere  in  Norway.  Not  only  aboard 
the  steamers,  but  on  trains  and  street  cars  as  well,  I 
seldom  heard  anything  in  the  nature  of  loud-mouthed 
ranting  or  cheap  bravado ;  nor  did  those  about  me  en- 
large upon  their  private  professions  after  the  too-preva- 
lent American  fashion,  but  the  subjects  of  conversation 
were  mainly  general.  Especially  in  the  cities  would  one 
often  be  surprised  to  overhear  intelligent  discussions  on 
art,  for  instance,  from  those  who,  a  little  later,  would 
perhaps  don  the  mechanic's  leather  apron  or  the  barber's 
coat.  To  such  well-informed,  intelligent  persons  their 
vocations  were  but  stepping-stones  to  higher  things 
in  the  promotion  of  individual  and  general  welfare. 
Hence  there  is  little  talk  of  dollars,  or  private  business 
in  public. 

Our  road  lay  among  numerous  pretty,  low-lying 
islands,  some  of  them  rather  bare,  others  thickly  studded 
with  young  birch.  Not  more  than  fifteen  years  ago 
many  of  these  timbered  tracts  had  stood  practically  bare, 
but  through  the  judicious  work  of  the  forestry  depart- 
ment they  had  now  become  valuable.  Immense  portions 
of  the  bare  west  coast  were  deforested  by  fires  in  the 
long  ago,  but  the  territory  has  not  changed  in  other 
respects  and  the  forests  may  some  day  come  back,  but 
scarcely  of  themselves.  The  forestry  laws  provide  for 
considerable  seeding  and  replanting;  and  no  one  is  al- 
lowed to  cut  and  slash  indiscriminately,  even  on  his  own 
property;  trees  under  a  certain  age  must  be  spared. 

Beyond  our  islands  toward  the  west  we  could  see  the 
great  blue  ocean  as  it  merged  into  the  azure  of  the  sky, 
and  right  on  its  rim  sat  a  little  island  with  a  transparent 

13 


194  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

base.  At  least,  so  it  seemed,  and  I  was  told  that  in 
certain  kinds  of  weather  it  was  no  unusual  sight  to  see 
distant  islands  lift  themselves  from  the  water  and  hang 
thus  dreamily  in  the  air.  The  sea  plays  many  tricks  on 
the  eyes,  providing  many  an  optical  illusion  to  distract, 
confuse,  and  bewilder. 

Stavanger,  the  city  of  the  great  flats,  Jaderen  by 
name,  has  a  population  of  some  38,000,  a  great  many  of 
whom  are  interested  in  the  sea  both  as  ship-owners, 
sailors,  and  fishermen.  It  may  be  mentioned  here  that 
Norwegian  ships  visit  all  ports,  Norway  as  a  sea-faring 
nation  ranking  fourth.  Her  fishermen  take  from  the 
deep  an  annual  haul  of  fish  that  averages  $10,000,000 
in  value.  The  most  important  fisheries  are  those  of  cod 
and  herring.  Next  come  those  of  mackerel,  salmon  and 
sea-trout.  Stavanger  is  the  seat  of  a  considerable  in- 
dustry in  fish  canning,  and  her  factories  send  out  mil- 
lions of  hermetically  sealed  boxes  containing  variously 
treated  fish,  sold  and  distributed  all  over  the  world. 

Stavanger  has  almost  as  crooked  streets  as  Jerusa- 
lem, and  they  are  narrow  as  well.  These  are  all  in  the 
older  section  of  the  city,  however.  The  newer  city, 
especially  the  residence  portion,  which  is  steadily  extend- 
ding  its  growth  towards  the  open  country  away  from 
the  sea,  is  quite  modern.  The  streets  are  well  laid  out, 
and  the  houses  generally  quite  spacious  and  built  accord- 
ing to  sanitary  methods,  in  response  to  the  general  de- 
mand for  this  class  of  dwellings.  It  was  good  to  see 
that  so  many  of  the  people  preferred  separate  dwellings 
and  were  not  content  to  live  in  flats,  as  the  majority  in 
Christiania  and  Bergen  do. 

When  meeting  people  on  the  street,  were  it  not  for 
their  complexions,  it  would  not  be  easy,  judging  merely 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  195 

by  their  garb  and  actions,  to  decide  upon  their  nationality. 
This  truth  struck  me  in  the  cities  of  other  European 
countries.  Customs  in  dress  are  so  much  alike  through- 
out the  civilized  world  that,  were  one  to  drop  suddenly 
into  the  midst  of  an  unknown  thoroughfare,  it  would 
take  more  than  a  passing  scrutiny  to  decide  on  what 
continent  he  had  landed.  In  the  European  country  dis- 
tricts, however,  the  difference  is  quite  easily  seen,  show- 
ing plainly  both  in  dress  and  feature,  vastly  more  so 
than  with  us. 

The  country  people,  especially,  ignored  the  sidewalks 
and  walked  scatteringly  about,  choosing  the  middle  of  the 
street  quite  as  often  as  not.  This  custom  has  its  origin 
in  the  prevalence  of  the  ancient  narrow  thoroughfare 
where  there  was  little  or  no  room  for  sidewalks,  and  the 
practice  is  still  quite  common  even  among  city  dwellers 
themselves.  When  the  Norwegian  student  singers  vis- 
ited our  shores,  their  habit  of  striding  unconcernedly  all 
over  the  street,  when  viewing  the  sights,  was  frequently 
noted. 

The  stranger  has  no  difficulty  in  rinding  lodging 
place,  for  the  town  is  literally  sprinkled  with  little  private 
hotels  where  one  may  sleep  and  eat  at  a  trifling  expense. 
Cleanliness  was  general,  but  fleas  were  not  unknown. 
They  often  came  with  the  country  folk,  who  invariably 
put  up  at  these  little  houses  of  entertainment,  while  the 
more  pretentious  hostleries  mainly  sought  by  tourists, 
were  free  from  the  pest.  In  these  smaller  estab- 
lishments the  patrons  receive  at  meals  a  certain  portion, 
no  more  and  no  less,  for  each.  This  is  nearly  always 
disposed  of,  it  being  considered  rather  bad  form  to 
order  a  dinner  and  not  partake  of  the  whole  amount. 
It  is,  indeed,  looked  upon  as  a  gross  breach  of  etiquette, 


196  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

especially  at  private  tables,  to  help  oneself  so  liberally 
of  the  various  courses  sent  around  that  a  heap  of  half- 
consumed  remnants  remains  on  the  plate. 

To  lovers  of  fish  these  Norwegian  sea-coast  towns 
furnish  a  great  variety  and  abundance  of  this  kind  of 
fare.  The  fish  epicure  is  here  in  his  element,  and  may 
be  seen  at  any  time  gliding  in  and  out  among  the  market 
booths  in  eager  quest  of  fresh  delicacies  newly  landed. 
The  market  place  is  the  only  spot  where  the  Norwegian 
really  finds  his  voice;  there  both  men  and  women  assert 
themselves,  nor  are  they  over-fastidious  as  to  methods  of 
speech.  It  is  surprising  to  hear  how  apt  is  their  talk 
while  driving  their  bargains,  and  how  quick  they  are 
at  repartee.  One  may  enjoy  hours  of  richest  entertain- 
ment by  mingling  promiscuously  with  these  merry,  jost- 
ling market  crowds.  The  middleman  is  here  left  out  in 
the  cold. 

Wishing  to  get  a  view  of  the  open  country,  I  chose 
the  likeliest  way,  following  it  inland,  the  proximity  of 
the  sea  enabling  me  readily  to  get  my  bearings.  I  en- 
joyed that  walk  hugely,  for  it  brought  me  back  home, 
as  it  were,  the  level  stretches  of  Jaderen  offering  no 
obstruction  to  the  view,  but  spreading  out  its  pretty 
groups  of  homes  in  a  well-nigh  endless  panorama,  re- 
minding me  of  the  prairies  of  the  West.  At  Ullenhaug, 
a  tower  about  four  miles  out,  built  to  commemorate 
some  great  Viking  deed  or  other,  the  view  obtained  was 
most  attractive.  Having  quitted  the  mountains,  I 
breathed  my  relief  at  being  free  to  gaze  into  vast  dis- 
tances, on  all  sides,  not  being  shut  in  by  towering  crags 
or  cliffs.  Here  in  the  open  would  I  tarry  where  I  might 
see  the  majestic  ocean  in  its  varying  aspects  under 
changing  winds  and  in  alternating  seasons;  here  I  could 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  197 

view  hundreds  of  farms,  far  and  near,  and  watch  the 
interesting  changes  occurring  week  by  week  and  month 
by  month ;  and  from  here  I  could  betake  myself  to  the 
mountains  beckoning  in  the  east  when  the  spirit  of  ad- 
venture and  restlessness  came  upon  me.  A  prairie- 
dweller,  I  would  remain  where  the  firmament  above 
reaches  out  in  fullest  glory,  and  where  inspiration 
fetches  to  the  very  skies. 

From  my  tower  I  could  see  an  ancient  battle-ground 
(Hafrsfjord)  where  had  been  fought  one  of  the  de- 
cisive battles  of  the  kingdom.  The  ocean  rolled  vast 
and  unbroken  beyond,  providing  no  harbors,  albeit,  a 
rich  territory  for  the  wrecker.  In  ancient  times  it  is 
said  coast-scavengers  tied  lanterns  to  the  tails  of  their 
horses  and  let  them  loose,  hoping  thus  to  lure  vessels 
to  destruction.  Then  there  were  no  light-houses,  but 
now  the  shore-line  is  literally  dotted  with  them.  Such 
safeguards  rob  sea-going  of  many  of  its  terrors;  yet 
wrecks  are  not  infrequent. 

Oats,  barley,  rye  and  potatoes  are  raised.  The  quite 
spacious  meadows  are  largely  given  over  to  pasture,  to 
clover  and  timothy,  which  furnish  fodder  for  the  cattle 
and  make  possible  a  considerable  dairy  industry  in  this 
district.  There  are  still  large  areas  of  wild  heather 
which  have  little  value  but  are  gradually  being  subdued, 
the  stone  being  removed  for  fences  and  the  dormant  soil 
coaxed  into  usefulness  by  thorough  cultivation  and  a 
liberal,  yearly  application  of  fertilizer.  Surprisingly 
large  returns  are  obtained  through  such  intensive  meth- 
ods of  cultivation.  The  farms  are  small,  yet  with  good 
management  they  are  made  to  return  no  inconsiderable 
profit.  Though  much  modern  machinery  has  been  intro- 
duced in  eastern  Norway  the  limited  size  of  the  farms 


198  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

here  on  the  west  coast  and  further  inland  renders  it 
impracticable  to  bring  in  this  machinery  on  an  extensive 
scale,  hand-labor  being  still  much  in  vogue,  as  of  old. 
The  homes  are  neat  and  attractive,  their  roofs  of  a  cheer- 
ful red,  tiles  taking  the  place  of  shingles,  while  the  out- 
side walls  are  rarely  unpainted.  The  yards  are  clean 
and  free  from  litter,  every  square  foot  serving  some 
useful  end,  with  no  room  for  unsightly  waste. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

By  Steamer  to  Haugesund 

TLEFT  Stavanger  one  evening  at  seven,  by  the  steamer 
"Kristiania,"  for  Haugesund,  some  forty  miles 
distant.  The  harbor  at  Stavanger  lies  well  pro- 
tected from  the  onslaught  of  the  open  sea  by  the  pro- 
tecting arms  of  the  sinuous  coast  line;  but  no  sooner 
were  we  beyond  their  shelter,  than  the  waves  set  us 
dancing  a  lively  jig.  As  we  crossed  the  Buknfjord, 
which  opens  wide  into  the  very  maw  of  the  North  sea, 
many  of  the  passengers  were  suddenly  attacked  by  sea- 
sickness. I  tried  to  ignore  it,  but  was  stricken  with  the 
rest. 

Long  live  the  isle  of  Karten !  As  we  slipped  into 
the  lea  of  its  protecting  arm  the  fish-soup  that  had  been 
assailing  my  nostrils  so  disagreeably  till  now,  gradually 
ceased  to  exicte  my  disgust,  the  people  grew  more 
amiable  and  ghosts  of  smiles  ventured  forth  on  many 
austere  countenances.  Something  ridiculously  funny  oc- 
curred which  but  a  short  time  before  would  have  raised, 
not  mirth,  but  wrath.  Karten  is  a  long,  narrow,  culti- 
vated island  which  keeps  the  ocean  from  tumbling  in 
upon  the  mainland,  and  provides  a  narrow  strait  or  chan- 
nel for  the  quiet  passage  of  vessels  that  have  breasted 
the  boisterous  fjords  at  either  end.  As  we  passed  by 
Kopervik  I  was  seized  with  a  wish  that  I  might  again 
hear  dear  old  grandmother  tell  of  her  experiences  while 
employed  about  the  copper  mines  situated  here.  But  she 
was  dead  these  twenty  years,  and  I  could  but  sigh  my 

(199) 


2OO  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

regret  at  not  having  noted  down  more  of  her  story  when 
there  was  yet  opportunity.  As  with  many  another,  my 
enthusiasm  for  storing  such  reminiscences,  was  too  late 
in  the  forming. 

We  arrived  at  Haugesund  at  ten  o'clock  the  same 
evening  and  landed  midst  an  enthusiastic,  eager-looking 
crowd  of  people  that  gave  us  a  most  thorough  scrutiny 
as  we  came  on  shore.  So  eloquent  was  their  stare  that  I 
felt  that  I  should  be  deeply  missed  upon  leaving  the 
place.  We  charged  right  through  the  thick  of  the  bom- 
bardment and  soon  came  to  a  noisy  hotel,  Victoria,  by 
name.  I  asked  for  a  quieter  place,  but  was  told  that  the 
hotels  of  Haugesund  were  scarcely  any  of  them  first- 
class  concerns,  being  run  rather  on  the  happy-go-lucky 
plan,  their  constituencies  being  drawn  from  all  classes, 
including  the  most  humble.  Hence  such  any  every-day, 
bustling,  unrefined  air;  it  did  not  seem  like  Norway.  I 
spent  the  night  in  bedlam,  listening  to  hurryings  and 
scurryings,  chatterings  and  jabberings,  till  finally,  toward 
morning,  I  yielded  to  an  overpowering  lethargy,  which 
scouted  at  mere  noise,  and  held  me  in  its  embrace  till 
the  light  of  another  day  had  grown  old  about  me. 

Haugesund  has  attained  its  present  proportions 
within  the  memory  of  some  of  its  older  inhabitants.  Its 
rapid  growth  is  mainly  due  to  the  increase  of  the  fish- 
eries at  R0var,  Sira  and  adjacent  points,  also  to  a  con- 
siderable sea  traffic,  many  vessels  hailing  from  here  as 
well  as  a  large  number  of  seamen. 

The  town  has  no  aristocracy,  its  inhabitants  having 
mostly  drifted  in  from  neighboring  country  districts, 
carrying  their  gait  and  general  characteristics  with  them, 
and  with  the  rural  atmosphere  still  about  them.  The 
place  has  no  well-defined  language  of  its  own,  the  va- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  2OI 

rious  dialects,  although  not  greatly  differing,  not  having 
blended  sufficiently  to  make  one  certain,  set  form  of 
speech,  as  for  instance,  Bergenese.  Like  all  towns  of 
quick  growth  Haugesund  has  gone  through  its  period  of 
crashes,  financial  and  other,  but  has  now  settled  down 
to  solid,  steady  development.  The  houses,  which  are 
mostly  of  two  stories,  are  generally  of  wood.  Some  of 
the  newer  structures  are  being  built  of  stone,  brick,  and 
cement.  The  most  recently  built  church,  constructed 
mainly  of  brick,  is  a  very  imposing  structure. 

An  American  city  approaching  15,000  inhabitants 
covers  quite  a  large  territory,  owing  to  the  wide  streets 
and  vast  number  of  private  dwellings,  with  plenty  of 
room  for  spacious  yards ;  but  Haugesund,  like  nearly  all 
European  towns  and  cities,  is  huddled  in  a  heap,  though 
not  nearly  so  much  so  as  Stavanger  and  many  other 
places,  with  their  old-fashioned  alleys  and  streets. 
Haugesund  has  scarcely  any  narrow  streets,  but  the 
people  occupy  every  nook  and  corner  of  each  and  every 
house,  packed  with  an  economy  of  space  that  must  be 
seen  to  be  believed.  The  American  town  of  Story  City, 
for  instance,  with  its  1,700  well-housed  people,  covers 
nearly  as  much  territory,  I  should  say,  as  does  Hauge- 
sund itself  with  many  times  that  number  of  inhabitants. 

There  is  one  small  park,  but  outside  of  that  there 
is  scarcely  a  tree;  the  surroundings  being  rather  bare 
and  uninteresting.  There  is,  however,  usually  a  forest 
of  masts  to  be  seen  in  the  narrow,  well-protected  harbor, 
and  here  on  the  docks  and  wharves  is  where  most  of 
the  interest  centers.  Here,  as  well  as  throughout  all  the 
streets,  the  paving  consists  of  cobble-stones,  and  when 
a  vehicle  with  iron-tired  wheels  passes  over  them  the 
noise  is  nothing  short  of  ear  splitting. 


2O2  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

A  few  minutes'  walk  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the 
city  brings  one  to  a  splendid  monument,  erected  in  1872 
in  honor  of  Harald  the  Fair-haired,  on  the  spot  where 
tradition  indicates  that  he  found  his  last  resting  place. 
In  the  year  872  he  united  the  various  petty  kingdoms  in 
one,  and  each  of  these  vanquished  territories  is  repre- 
sented with  a  granite  shaft  with  its  name  inscribed 
thereon,  and  in  their  arrangement  around  the  monument 
they  produce  a  striking  effect. 

Near  Haugesund  is  situated  Avaldsnes,  my  mother's 
birthplace,  which  I  determined  to  visit.  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  the  companionship  of  Kolbein  Sund,  an 
old  retired  merchant,  himself  born  there.  We  walked 
along  the  sound  on  a  smooth  graveled  road,  which,  when 
measured,  showed  an  average  width  of  about  fifteen 
feet.  Such,  usually,  I  found  the  graded  roads  in  Nor- 
way; the  cultivated  fields,  timber  tracts,  or  heathery, 
rocky  wastes  running  parallel,  and  with  no  line  of  divi- 
sion between. 

We  stopped  to  look  at  the  "Seven  Sisters,"  a  row 
of  tall  unadorned  stones  planted  here  in  the  long  ago 
by  some  heathen,  no  doubt.  It  is  likely  that  they  were 
placed  to  commemorate  some  ancient  deed  of  valor  that 
has  found  no  place  in  history  or  tradition.  A  mere 
glance  was  enough  to  convince  me  that  the  "Seven 
Sisters"  had  not  originally  belonged  there,  though  they 
had  come  into  a  remarkably  perfect  harmony  with  their 
surroundings.  We  pause  before  nature's  handiwork, 
again  and  again,  in  wonder  and  delight;  but  the  rudest 
efforts  of  man  show  a  different  style,  and  we  immediately 
recognize  the  difference,  yet  hardly  know  wherein  it 
consists. 

Not  far  from  the  Sisters  we  crossed  the  sound  in 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

a  "fl0t"  boat  (toll  boat)  for  we  were  on  the  wrong  side 
of  the  water,  on  the  mainland,  our  destination  being  a 
certain  point  on  the  isle  of  Karten.  For  one  cent  apiece 
a  boy  rowed  us  across  the  sound,  which  is  subject  to 
remarkable  alternations  in  the  flow  and  ebb  of  the  tide. 
The  tide  held  the  boat  nearly  sidewise  as  the  poor  lad 
fought  to  gain  the  opposite  landing-place.  Because  of 
the  exceedingly  narrow  and  lengthy  strait,  with  only  an 
occasional  widening 'here  and  there,  the  water  is  forever 
trying  to  catch  up  with  the  outside  tide-motions,  but 
seems  never  quite  to  succeed,  either  in  the  flow  or  ebb. 
Having  paid  .our  bill(  !)  we  took  respectful  leave  of  our 
willing  "fl0t"  man,  encountering  immediately  after,  to  our 
great  surprise,  a  band  of  gypsies.  There  was  no  good 
reason  why  we  should  be  excited  over  it,  for  we  had 
known  that  there  are  quite  a  number  of  these  "fanter," 
as  they  are  called,  both  of  foreign  and  native  extraction, 
that  roam  up  and  down  the  country,  begging  or  pilfering, 
as  the  case  may  be.  We  had  not  been  looking  for  them, 
that  was  all.  They  make  a  pretense  of  working  at  a 
trade,  such  as  kettle-repairing  and  the  like.  They  have 
no  laws  or  creeds,  and  come  and  go  like  migratory  birds. 
Their  morals  are  as  a  rule  quite  lax. 

An  old  hag  had  managed  to  fill  her  kettle  with  pigs' 
feet,  potatoes,  carrots,  and  other  things,  and  I  am  sure 
it  was  going  to  taste  finely,  but  we  managed  to  time  our 
stay  so  as  to  escape  before  it  was  served.  A  younger 
woman  had  charge  of  a  dozen  little  brats,  some  her  own, 
some  belonging  to  a  daughter  of  the  hag,  and  the  rest 
on  Topsy's  plan,  not  claiming  any  parentage  in  particular. 
There  were  several  nien  about  but  none  seemed  to  feel 
the  responsibility  of  fatherhood.  How  utterly  sad  'to 
contemplate  such  miserable  offspring,  wrought  as  they 


2O4  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

are  in  the  image  of  their  Maker  and  yet  doomed  to  be 
reared  in  the  very  lap  of  ungodliness  !  Oh  you  Christian, 
throw  not  only  your  dollar  at  them,  but  go  and  show 
your  love  to  such  a  child  by  the  caress  of  your  hand,  and 
by  the  actual  offering  of  heart  and  spirit,  minister  per- 
sonally, and  be  surprised  at  the  result.  Money  is  good 
when  rightly  used,  but  this  exclusiveness  of  the  well-to- 
do  is  one  of  the  curses  of  Christendom. 

My  friend,  Kolbein  Sund,  asked  where  all  these  little 
ones  were  wintered.  He  trusted  that  there  was  some 
kind  of  an  institution  in  Bergen  or  Christiania  where 
they  could  be  placed  during  cold  weather.  At  this  the 
young  mother  was  seized  with  an  immoderate  fit  of 
laughter,  and  could  barely  find  words  to  emphasize  her 
contempt  for  a  man  who  was  simple  enough  not  to  know 
that  no  one  cared  for  "fanter"  (gypsies).  Such  is,  how- 
ever, as  far  as  I  know,  not  the  fact,  the  "commune" 
being  responsible  for  all  in  need,  irrespective  of  condi- 
tion. She  continued  to  leer  at  Sund,  and  said  to  him 
furthermore:  We  do  not  want  to  be  taken  care  of. 
Our  young  ones  stand  it  well  enough,  and  if  they  don't 
they  get  sick  and  die,  as  some  of  yours  do;  that's  all. 
She  laughed  us  to  scorn,  and  we  left,  deciding  that  to 
do  missionary  work  under  such  circumstances  takes  both 
zeal  and  patience. 

We  came  upon  the  church  where  mother  was  bap- 
tized, and  it  interested  me  very  much  to  learn  that  it  is 
considered  the  most  interesting  landmark  hereabouts, 
being  the  oldest  house  of  worship  in  this  particular  part 
of  the  country. 

The  church  was  originally  built  by  the  Catholics 
about  eight  hundred  years  ago.  Its  length  is  120  feet 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  20$ 

and  its  width  40  feet.  The  masonry  is  several  feet  thick. 
The  interior  is  rather  plain.  The  altar  pieces  in  many 
of  these  ancient  churches  are  quite  elaborate  both  in 
painting  and  in  images,  the  latter  often  representing  the 
crucified  Christ,  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  a  vast  number  of 
chubby  angels.  Though  there  is  considerable  real  art, 
crude  work  is  not  infrequent.  The  church  fell  into 
neglect  and  ruin  after  its  evacuation  by  the  Catholics ; 
but  of  late  it  has  been  restored. 

The  Holy  Virgin's  needle  occupies  a  distinct  place 
in  the  cemetery  about  the  church,  being  set  close  to  the 
wall  and  reaching  clear  up  under  the  eaves,  about  30  feet 
high.  It  is  exceedingly  slim,  being  only  a  few  feet  in 
circumference  at  the  base.  It  is  said  that  King  Avald 
buried  a  favorite  cow  here.  This  may  be  read  in  Snorre 
Sturlason's  ancient  history  of  Norway. 

The  attendance  in  these  country  churches  is  fairly 
good,  and  perhaps  still  better  in  their  "bede  huse" 
(houses  of  prayer)  scattered  throughout  the  various  dis- 
tricts in  proportion  to  the  interest  in  such  work.  I  was 
told  that  there  was  more  religious  enthusiasm  here  on  the 
west  coast  than  in  almost  any  other  section  in  the 
country.  Here  they  remain  for  the  most  part  faithful  to 
the  old  truths,  the  unadulterated  Word,  not  being  smit- 
ten by  the  "higher  criticism"  or  the  new-fashioned  the- 
ology emanating  from  the  larger  cities,  these,  in  turn, 
having  obtained  it  mostly  from  the  South,  and  especially 
from  Germany.  The  leaven  of  the  modernists  is  being 
broadcast  over  various  sections  of  the  country,  but 
many  serious  thinkers  and  observers  believe  that  the 
more  conservative  rural  population  throughout  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  land  will  struggle  valiantly  to  pre- 


2O6  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

serve  intact  the  old  established  principles  of  faith  and 
doctrine  —  that  is,  full  allegiance  to  the  written  Word  in 
the  Holy  Script. 

After  much  questioning  we  finally  located  the  house 
where  mother  was  born.  A  large  languid  woman,  who 
had  just  risen  from  her  afternoon  coffee,  opened  the 
door  and  bade  us  enter.  We  did  so,  and  found  a  rather 
gloomy  interior,  these  ancient  houses  being  built  with  but 
few  apertures  in  the  thick  log  walls  to  admit  light. 
There  were  two  large  rooms  facing  the  east  and  the  light, 
with  a  dark  alley  between  connecting  with  an  outer  door,, 
but  the  rooms  for  sleeping  and  for  other  domestic  uses 
were  hidden  away  in  the  darkest  corners  of  the  house. 
The  floors  were  of  wide  pine  boards,  deeply  worn  except 
the  knots.  The  chairs  never  could  find  a  resting-place 
for  all  four  legs  at  once.  The  woman  was  no  relative 
of  either  of  us,  so  looked  rather  uninterestedly  upon  our 
eager  scrutiny  of  her  parlor  and  boudoir,  which  she  con- 
siderately allowed  us  to  see.  Kolbein's  chest  heaved  and 
mine  throbbed  just  a  little  as  we  gazed  about,  he  hear- 
ing as  from  afar  his  own  childhood's  croon  and  I  an 
infant's  querulous  plaint.  The  beds  and  cradle,  with 
their  high,  protecting  sides  and  coarse  coverlets,  looked 
as  of  old,  and  the  imagination  had  naught  else  to  do  than 
to  conjure  up  the  former  inmates,  the  surroundings  hav- 
ing altered  not  at  all.  We  resented  just  then  the  in- 
trusion of  others  into  this  sanctuary,  as  we  chose  to 
regard  it,  but  strove  as  best  we  could  to  smother  our 
resentment. 

Old  Kolbein  and  I  returned  to  Haugesuml,  happy 
but  wet,  under  a  common  umbrella  in  a  soft,  mist-like 
rain.  His  interesting  reminiscences  of  by-gone  days 
made  the  way  none  too  long,  and  I  was  just  a  little 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

sorry  when  the  rim  of  our  umbrella  suddenly  scratched 
hard  against  his  door. 

A  week's  stay  at  Haugesund  made  me  feel  like  an 
old  inhabitant,  it  being  natural  for  me  to  adjust  myself 
to  conditions,  whether  among  Orientals,  Norwegians, 
American  Indians  or  American  mongrels ;  and  unless  one 
has  this  adaptive  faculty  it  were  foolish  to  dream  of 
extensive  travel.  I  lived  at  a  quiet  "pensionat"  (boardT 
ing  house)  where  good  substantial  dinners  were  served 
for  fifteen  cents.  I  had  a  good  room  and  the  best  of 
hostesses  to  dispense  cheer  and  provide  the  atmosphere 
of  a  home.  The  mayor  of  the  town  took  his  meals  here 
during  the  "week  end"  absence  of  his  family,  and  proved 
a  most  entertaining  fellow  boarder.  From  him  I  learned 
that  the  city  government  rests  on  a  very  stable  basis, 
and  that  economy  and  efficiency  is  the  watchword 
throughout  all  its  branches.  There  is  no  graft.  The  poor 
are  so  well  taken  care  of  that  actual  want  is  almost  un- 
known. Litigation  is  rare.  There  is  some  rowdyism 
among  the  sailors  occasionally,  mostly  caused  by  drink, 
otherwise  order  is  not  difficult  to  maintain.  One  need 
not  fear  to  walk  any  of  the  streets  of  Haugesund  after 
midnight.  The  schools  are  good,  the  children  being  fully 
as  advanced  in  the  common  branches  as  with  us.  Here, 
also,  the  children  are  early  trained  to  show  proper  def- 
erence to  their  elders.  "Fresh"  youngsters  are  not  much 
in  evidence. 

It  was  impressed  upon  me  here  that  it  does  not 
necessarily  take  vast  resources  to  insure  a  fair  degree  of 
prosperity  and  success  in  a  commonwealth,  but  mainly 
efficient,  upright  citizens. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
Sveen 

*TWLTHOUGH  Haugesund  interested  me  much,  the 
f^  country  immediately  to  the  north,  called  Sveen, 
J  I  interested  me  more,  and  I  was  glad  when  I  could 
embark  on  the  steamer  Folgefond  bound  for  the  coast- 
station  Tjernagel,  my  father's  birth-place,  about  seven- 
teen miles  distant.  Hardly  had  we  left  the  protecting 
embrace  of  the  sound  when  Sletten  bore  down  upon  us 
with  mighty  waves  from  the  main  body  of  the  North 
Sea  itself,  which  no  protecting  islands  hindered  from 
lashing  Sveens  rock-ribbed  coast.  Sletten  is  synonymous 
with  seasickness  to  the  dwellers  on  this  particular  stretch 
of  the  coast.  Its  waters  are  nearly  always  in  a  state  of 
unrest,  being  the  connecting  link  between  the  great 
Hardanger  fjord  and  the  open  sea. "  Though  again  al- 
most overcome,  I  was  able  occasionally  to  give  a  glance 
at  the  shore,  and  could  see  what  presented  itself  to  my 
imagination  as  the  coast  of  the  Country  of  Despair. 
From  the  sea  rose  the  cliffs,  abrupt,  jagged  and  uncouth, 
with  but  few  scattering  inlets  that  could  serve  as  havens. 
A  fellow  passenger  told  me  that  the  coast  population 
was  largely  dependent  on  the  fisheries  for  a  living,  good 
soil  being  scarce,  with  little  but  rocks  and  heather  on 
every  side.  But  few  cattle  and  sheep  were  raised,  and 
these  found  substance  in  summer  chiefly  among  the  gray, 
heathery  -hills  near  the  coast,  where  a  few  wisps  of 
grass  were  to  be  found  mingling  with  the  heather.  In 
winter  the  stock  is  housed,  fed  and  tended  like  babies, 

(208) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  2(X) 

never  seeing  the  outside  of  their  bedrooms  till  the  late 
dawn  of  another  spring.  When  they  are  let  out  on  the 
grass  after  their  long  confinement,  they  turn  somersaults 
and  act  in  a  silly  fashion  for  hours  at  a  time.  One  of  the 
reasons  why  they  are  kept  so  closely  confined  is  because 
of  the  fear  of  a  slight  speck  of  manure  being  lost.  The 
manure  is  hoarded  and  carefully  kept  in  well  protected 
places,  mostly  in  the  barn  cellars,  for  without  it  the  worn- 
out  soil  refuses  to  yield  anything.  Not  only  are  the 
cows  turned  to  good  account  in  this  way,  but  also  the 
very  air  itself,  for  at  Notodden  fertilizer  material  is 
extracted  from  it  in  large  quantities  and  distributed 
widely  at  reasonable  prices.  The  imprisoned  cows'  fare 
consists  largely  of  the  excellent  Norwegian  hay  and 
barley  straw,  together  with  a  delikatessen  slop,  now  and 
then,  consisting  of  crabs,  herring  heads  and  other  such 
dainties.  They  are  eager  for  this,  as  well  as  for  their 
beverage  of  hay  soup,  made  from  boiled  hay.  They  drink 
a  lot  of  this,  if  they  may,  with  excellent  results  in  the 
yield  of  milk.  The  women-folk  do  the  chores,  and  they 
also  tend  the  little  farms,  to  a  very  great  extent,  being 
left  at  home,  while  the  men,  young  .and  old,  embark  on 
the  precarious  business  of  wresting  living  treasure  from 
the  sea.  Often  the  fishing  is  but  poor,  while  at  other 
times  it  is  almost  too  good,  with  an  opposite  effect  on 
prices  which  dwindle  to  nearly  nothing,  so  that  there 
is  hardly  more  profit  from  plenty  than  from  scarcity. 
The  work  is  quite  hazardous,  the  death-toll  being  large, 
and  many  are  the  widows  and  orphans  in  Norway  who 
look  askance  at  the  sea.  Seal  hunting  is  not  altogether 
without  profit,  though  here  carried  on  only  by  a  few 
private  individuals  in  smaller  craft. 

Instead   of   landing  directly   at   Tjernagel,   I   came 

14 


2IO  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

with  the  ship  to  Langevaag,  situated  on  B0mmel  island 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fjord.  Here  lived  an  old 
lady  of  eighty-two  years,  a  relative,  grandfather's  half- 
sister,  whom  I  wished  to  see,  availing  myself  of  this 
opportunity. 

She  wept  with  joy  at  my  coming  and  at  my  bring- 
ing news  of  her  children  in  America.  I  have  often  been 
touched  by  the  pathetic  eagerness  displayed  by  old  Nor- 
wegian parents  when  watching  the  incoming  mails  and 
hoping  fervently  for  news  of  their  loved  ones,  only  to 
be  disappointed  again  and  again.  To  write  regularly  is 
the  best  comfort  the  absent  ones  can  give  them.  How 
greatly  is  this  attention  appreciated,  but  how  often  it 
is  omitted ! 

Dear  old  Kari  bustled  about  and  prepared  a  meal 
for  us  two  consisting  of  potato-cakes,  syrup,  cheese, 
coffee  and  rye  bread.  At  a  later  meal  she  provided  hard- 
tack, to  be  dipped  and  softened  in  the  coffee,  kringla  and 
"fl0ite-kaadla,"  which  is  soured  milk  with  the  cream  left 
on.  We  ate  out  of  the  same  bowl,  of  course,  but  she 
insisted  on  my  scooping  into  my  spoon  all  the  cream  and 
sugar,  while  she  self-denyingly  dipped  her  own  spoon 
into  the  bowl  near  its  edge,  till  its  contents  were  ex- 
hausted. 

When  I  essayed  to  take  the  lower  kringla,  out  of 
politeness,  as  I  had  learned  was  their  custom,  she  would 
have  none  of  it,  but  gently  forced  me  to  let  go,  tipping 
the  upper  and  nicer  one  cleverly  into  my  hands.  The 
hostess  is  continually  urging  her  backward  guests  to  take 
the  best  and  amply,  while  the  visitors  partake  with  a 
seeming  unwillingness,  as  if  feeling  themselves  unworthy 
of  so  much  as  a  bite.  They  always  say  grace  at  table, 
before  and  after  eating,  and  the  visitor  always  tenders 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  211 

his  thanks  to  the  family  at  the  end  of  the  meal,  saying 
over  and  over  again,  "Tak  for  maden"  to  each,  and  ac- 
companying the  "Thank  you's"  with  fervent  hand-clasps. 
It  means  much  to  them  to  have  enough  to  eat,  and  they 
are  correspondingly  thankful  to  the  Great  Giver  as  well 
as  to  each  other.  To  an  American,  accustomed  to  rich 
and  generous  fare,  this  excess  of  thankfulness  for  the 
simplest  food  appears  almost  silly,  though  it  may  quicken 
his  sense  of  the  abundance  it  is  his  privilege  to  enjoy  at 
home. 

When  I  told  the  old  lady  I  had  but  recently  come 
from  Valdres  and  had  seen  the  old  homestead  and  old 
Marit,  remembered  of  yore,  she  grew  almost  hysterical 
and  would  no  doubt  have  fallen  on  my  neck,  but  luckily 
the  table  was  between  us,  and  she  remained  content  to 
gaze  wonderingly  as  I  told  of  my  visit.  Her  endless  ques- 
tioning showed  me  how  many  things  I  had  overlooked, 
and  made  me  resolve  to  observe  more  closely  in  my  fur- 
ther wanderings.  She  had  not  seen  or  heard  from  her 
folks  in  Valdres  for  sixty-five  years,  when  she  left 
that  country  for  good  in  the  company  of  grandfather. 

Old  Kari  was  her  own  housekeeper,  though  sharing 
part  of  the  homestead  with  her  eldest  son  and  his  family. 
She  kept  always  to  her  own  rooms,  where  she  continued 
her  knitting  and  spinning  as  of  yore,  as  if  yet  responsible 
for  the  comfort  and  well-being  of  her  family.  Though 
the  children  were  scattered  and  the  husband  dead  these 
many  years,  her  enthusiasm  for  work  never  dwindled, 
and  she  was  living  her  life  of  usefulness  to  the  very 
end.  I  was  astonished  to  hear  that  she  had  never  since 
childhood  worn  a  stitch  of  clothing  save  what  she  had 
knitted  or  spun  herself.  And  because  of  such  activity 
and  skill  she  was  enabled  to  do  for  others  and  not  only 


212  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

for  herself.  Thus  her  prayers,  interest  and  efforts  in 
behalf  of  the  missions,  and  in  the  general  spread  of  the 
gospel  everywhere,  would  put  to  shame  many  with  better 
opportunities  for  such  work.  I  was  particularly  im- 
pressed by  her  refinement  and  gentleness  of  manner  — 
a  common  trait  among  genuine  Bible  students,  by  the 
way,  and  one  that  I  mention  merely  as  an  instance  of 
what  I  so  often  met  with  among  the  rural  folk,  missing, 
however,  such  bearing,  at  times,  among  those  in  the  so- 
called  higher  classes,  where  we  might  have  the  better 
reason  to  expect  it.  Such,  also,  has  been  my  experience 
in  our  own  good  country.  True  refinement  is  not  the 
attribute  of  certain  sets  or  classes  merely,  but  is  the 
mark  of  a  kind  heart  and  a  high  ideal. 

In  the  morning  the  devoted  old  soul  caught  me  in 
bed,  having  slipped  noislessly  into  the  room  with  a  bowl 
of  steaming  coffee,  a  lump  of  sugar,  and  a  "kringla." 
She  nipped  at  my  sleeve  to  let  me  know  she  had  brought 
me  "kaffe  paa  sengen"  —  a  custom  of  the  country,  but 
one  that  makes  a  man  rather  uneasy  the  first  time  his 
room  is  thus  unexpectedly  invaded  by  the  maid  or  lady 
of  the  house.  But  I  did  not  resent  the  intrusion,  and 
could  not  but  try  to  smile  back  at  the  beaming,  wrinkled 
face  bending  over  me.  She  set  down  her  tray  and 
invited  me  to  partake,  but  she  would  not  let  go  of  my 
sleeve,  for  such  beautiful  fabric  she  had  never  seen  and 
she  must  be  allowed  to  examine  it  closely  and  feel  of 
it  again  and  again.  She  grew  quite  despondent  because 
of  her  inability  to  duplicate  it.  She  thought  her  own 
work  exceedingly  coarse  in  comparison.  As  homespun 
material,  however,  it  was  most  excellent,  and  besides  the 
feathers  she  had  loaded  me  down  with  several  pretty 
coverlets  of  it,  which  I  now  had  ample  opportunity  to 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


213 


examine.  She  was  much  put  out  at  my  early  departure, 
and  would  have  me  promise  to  visit  her  again  and,  above 
all,  to  greet  her  loved  ones  in  America,  and  if  possible 
induce  them  to  write  oftener. 

As  Kari's  son  and  grandson  happened  to  be  lying  at 
anchor  ready  to  depart  with  their  great  sailship  on  a 


Kari. 


Drawing   by   E.    Piorn. 


North  Sea  fishing  cruise,  they  made  it  their  business  to 
carry  me  across  the  fjord  before  lying  out  to  sea.  Dur- 
ing a  recent  trip,  the  sea  had  yielded  them  four  hundred 
barrels  of  mackerel,  which  they  caused  to  be  shipped  and 
sold  at  a  good  profit  in  American  markets.  The  fish 
are  caught  on  baited  lines,  and  hence  there  is  scarcely  any 


214  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

rest  allowed  the  crew,  night  or  day.  When  the  haul  is 
good,  two  weeks'  stay  on  the  fishing  grounds  sees  the 
crew  completely  worn  out  and  demoralized,  because  of 
the  steady  pull  and  strain  and  lack  of  rest.  When  full 
they  hurry  home  as  fast  as  the  wind  will  take  them, 
disposing  of  their  wares  and  taking  snatches  of  neglected 
sleep  at  any  or  all  hours,  night  or  day. 

On  my  arrival  at  Tjernagel  haven  a  boat  was 
launched  upon  the  fretful  sea,  only  to  bob  crazily  up  and 
down  alongside,  seemingly  helpless  enough  with  its  own 
burden  without  having  an  extra  wabbling  weight  or  two 
added.  To  exchange  the  stable  ship's  deck  for  such 
flimsy,  tottering  craft,  is  one  of  the  least  inviting  expe- 
riences that  I  know.  It  is  impossible  to  decide  on  which 
foot  to  stand,  and  with  the  proper  amount  of  dizziness 
and  nausea  added  to  the  general  misery,  and  also  excite- 
ment and  risk,  one  feels  that  life  hangs  but  by  a  slender, 
uncertain  thread.  Once  out  of  the  boat  I  pushed  up 
the  steps  of  the  diminutive  wharf,  hurriedly,  as  when 
one  closes  the  door  fearsomely  behind  one's  back,  to 
be  rid  of  the  dark  at  night. 

Very  near  the  landing  place,  and  typical  enough,  are 
situated  a  country  store,  the  post-office,  the  store-keeper's 
dwelling,  and  a  freight  and  boat-house.  Here  the  country 
folk  within  a  distance  of  half  a  dozen  miles  or  so  get 
their  mail,  which  is  left  by  steamers  several  times  during 
the  week,  their  groceries,  and  a  small  part  of  their  cloth- 
ing and  foot-wear.  Here  they  deliver  their  little  stores 
of  eggs  and  butter,  and  here  they  discuss  the  weather  and 
the  fishing  prospects,  and  hear  the  news  of  their  neigh- 
bors as  well  as  "Amerika-nyt."  Once  upon  a  time,  when 
the  noted  Re  jar  Tjernagel  was  living,  there  had  been 
great  bustle  and  activity  in  the  place,  numberless  fishing 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


215 


vessels  touching  here  on  their  way  through  the  fjord, 
coming  or  going,  when  on  fishing  expeditions.  Thus 
Rejars  name  became  known  all  over  the  western  coast. 
Since  then  a  peace  as  of  a  hundred  years  seems  to  have 
settled  over  all,  greeting  me  with  a  Sabbath  stillness  as  I 
wended  my  way  from  the  hamlet  and  seashore,  towards 


Tjernagel. 


Drawing    by   E.    Biorn. 


the   homestead   of   my    fathers  —  the   present   home   of 
Aunt  Barbru,  father's  sister  and  former  playmate. 

Like  all  old-fashioned  dwellings  in  Norway,  the 
house  was  rather  low,  with  the  rooms,  both  upstairs  and 
downstairs,  to  correspond.  The  windows  were  few 
enough,  and  because  of  a  rather  awkward  arrangement, 
the  living  room  was  less  cheerful  than  it  would  have 
been  if  the  sun  could  have  peeped  in  from  the  south. 


216  WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY 

A  small  kitchen  and  a  corner  to  store  fuel  —  peat  mostly 
—  occupied  one  end  of  the  building,  and  from  here  an 
ancient  oven  was  run  through  the  wall  into  the  dining 
and  sitting  room,  answering  the  purpose  of  a  cook  stove 
at  one  end  and  a  heating  stove  at  the  other.  It  emitted 
considerable  smoke  from  the  slow-burning  peat,  but 
otherwise  answered  its  purpose  very  well,  considering 
its  age,  which  was  two  centuries.  On  top  of  it  could  be 
baked  "flad-br^d,"  oaten  cakes,  and  other  eatables.  It 
took  longer  to  make  the  kettle  boil  with  peat  than  with 
wood  or  coal;  but  once  well  begun,  it  kept  the  proper 
boiling  temperature  without  change  if  properly  tended. 
The  end  of  the  stove  sticking  through  the  wall  into  the 
sitting-room  stood  on  very  long  legs  and  enabled  Bendick, 
Aunt  Barbru's  youngest  son,  to  crawl  in  under  for  his 
nap,  or  for  whatever  other  important  purpose  came  into 
his  head. 

The  visitor  reigned  in  state  in  the  "kammers,"  or 
sleeping  room,  at  the  other  end  of  the  building,  where 
the  pictures  and  knick-knacks  belonging  to  the  family 
were  gathered,  and  where  some  of  the  best  dresses  were 
hung,  and  where  the  bed  had  the  best  feathers,  the  best 
coverlets  and  many  other  best  things  of  which  a  well- 
appointed  sleeping  room  can  boast.  It  was  impossible 
to  suffer  from  cold  when  buried  under  such  an  avalanche 
of  bed  covers;  nor  did  I. 

Dear  old  aunt  Barbru  made  the  best  oaten  cakes  I 
have  ever  eaten.  They  are  a  most  wholesome  article  of 
food.  Indigestion  would  speedily  take  flight  if  they 
were  more  generally  found  on  the  table.  My  aunt's 
cakes  were  made  of  good,  clean  oats,  dried  on  a  drying 
oven,  the  whole  grains  ground  fine,  and  then,  mixed  with 
potatoes,  made  into  flat  round  cakes  which  were  baked 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

through  and  through,  over  a  moderate  fire,  on  top  of  the 
oven.  With  a  little  butter  and  cheese  on  top,  and  eaten 
with  sips  or  spoonfuls  of  sour  milk,  they  make  a  food 
that  Norwegian  giants  formerly  thrived  upon.  Sad  to 
say,  this  giant's  food  is  slowly  but  surely  going  out  of 
fashion  even  in  Norway,  and  richer,  more  concentrated 
foods  are  taking  its  place. 

While  staying  at  my  aunt's  I  had  the  honor  of  being 
invited  to  a  couple  of  weddings  in  the  vicinity.  These 
were  real  folk-festivals,  lasting  several  days  and  enjoyed 
to  the  utmost,  and  at  their  close  the  bride  and  groom 
might  be  said  to  be  properly  launched  on  the  voyage  of 
life.  Aunt  and  I  took  enough  bread  and  butter  with  us 
to  outlast  our  stay,  and  so  no  doubt  did  the  others,  for 
there  was  enough  provender  of  various  descriptions  to 
supply  a  small  army.  The  bride's  parents  were  thus 
spared  much  expense,  and  though  the  meals  had  to  be 
cooked  and  served,  extensive  advance  preparations  were 
rendered  unnecessary.  The  wedding  differed  widely 
from  the  fashionable  ceremony  so  common  with  us.  We 
went  by  boat  a  considerable  distance  before  we  reached 
the  church,  and  here  we  settled  down  happily  to  enjoy 
the  interesting  ceremony  and  listen  to  the  most  excellent 
advice  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Aall,  the  then  minister.  The  knot 
being  duly  tied,  there  was  singing  in  unison,  in  which 
all  heartily  joined,  and  finally  there  was  protracted  hand- 
shaking and  there  were  good  wishes  without  number. 
The  boat  ride  back  again  made  some  of  us  slightly  sea- 
sick, but  not  seriously  enough  to  impair  our  appetites. 
We  were  placed  at  table  somewhat  according  to  station, 
though  the  American  was  set  much  higher  than  he  mer- 
ited and  dangerously  near  the  bride  —  in  fact,  so  near 
that  he  in  his  trepidation,  trying  to  do  exactly  the  right 


2l8  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

thing  at  the  right  moment,  did  the  opposite,  and  spilled 
a  well-filled  bowl  of  gravy  over  my  lady's  lap.  The 
poor  bride  looked  sorrowfully  at  her  dress,  for  it  was 
partially  ruined,  and  the  groom  glared  straight  at  me  as 
if  consumed  with  hatred,  but  recovered  himself  instantly 
and  the  unfortunate  incident  was  quickly  glossed  over 
with  merry  talk.  The  toastmaster  had  opened  by  asking 
a  blessing  and  extending  a  cordial  invitation  to  all  to 
partake  generously  of  the  material  blessings  before  them; 
and  they  did.  The  "lefse,"  a  thinly  rolled  cake,  round, 
and  about  a  foot  and  a  half  in  diameter,  made  from  flour, 
milk  and  water,  and  baked  on  top  of  the  oven  —  being 
in  fact  twin  sister  to  the  flad-br0d  —  spread  with  butter 
and  sugar,  rolled  into  a  cylindrical  form  and  eaten  from 
the  end  —  words  fail  me  further,  but  this  was  what  we 
had  to  begin  with.  Home-made  beer,  mild  and  innocent, 
was  passed  around  in  great  Russian  bowls  gayly  dec- 
orated with  inscriptions  inviting  the  holder  to  partake. 
The  guests  drank  from  the  same  bowl  to  the  very  dregs, 
and  then  it  was  quickly  refilled,  to  make  another  round, 
being  made  to  revolve  as  it  was  passed  from  hand  to 
hand  and  mouth  to  mouth.  There  was  a  boatful  of 
fresh,  cooked  codfish.  The  meal  lasted  long,  for  there 
was  much  to  be  said  between  every  two  bites ;  and 
those  who  stood  empty  and  sober,  waiting  for  their  turn 
at  the  second  or  third  table,  thought  the  conversation  dull 
and  uninteresting.  After  dinner  there  was  enough  hand- 
shaking to  supply  a  presidential  reception.  No  sooner 
were  we  well  through  with  dinner  than  we  were  treated 
to  coffee,  kringla  and  krullers,  and  thus  it  went  from 
early  morn  till  late  at  night;  we  were  munching  some- 
thing all  the  time,  and  kept  it  up  for  three  days.  We 
got  little  sleep,  for  the  old  must  needs  talk  and  gossip 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  2IQ 

and  smoke,  wile  the  young  must  watch  their  opportunity 
to  get  acquainted,  fall  in  love,  and  perform  such  other 
preliminaries  as  are  necessary  to  insure  future  wed- 
dings ;  for  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage  are  popular 
in  Norway,  and  proper  encouragement  is  given  to  those 
contemplating  matrimony.  And  the  married  ones  nearly 
always  stay  married,  for  marriage  is  considered  holy,  and 
divorces  as  coming  from  the  devil.  In  the  cities,  how- 
ever, the  divorce  evil  is  eating  its  way  into  the  heart  and 
core  of  society,  and,  if  not  checked,  will  help  more  than 
a  little  to  bring  about  corruption  and  decay  in  the  nation. 

I  should  perhaps  have  said  a  few  words  about  the 
fleas  and  a  few  other  discomforts  experienced,  also  that 
one  whole  day  to  be  married  in  is  enough  and  prefer- 
able to  three  —  the  bride  had  to  have  a  different  dress 
for  each  day  —  but  I  refuse  to  report  anything  unpleas- 
ant when  there  was  so  much  of  the  other  sort,  with  kind- 
ness on  every  hand,  in  which  the  American  was  made 
a  sharer  far  beyond  his  reasonable  expectation. 

Aunt  Barbru  and  I  took  several  other  walking  trips 
together,  but  especially  would  I  mention  our  journeys  to 
church,  to  which  the  distance  from  her  home  was  seven 
miles.  Services  opened  at  eleven,  but  we  started  at  nine 
so  as  not  to  be  late.  We  had  provided  ourselves  with 
lunch,  for  that  we  had  need  of,  both  coming  and  going. 
Passing  the  nearest  neighbor's  house,  we  were  joined  by 
a  member  of  that  family,  and  soon  there  were  other  re- 
cruits, and  as  still  more  continued  to  join  us  we  were, 
before  long,  a  respectable  little  army  of  worshipers 
headed  for  the  House  of  God.  The  men  headed  the 
procession  in  a  straggling  group,  while  a  bevy  of  rosy- 
cheeked  females  followed.  If  there  was  anything  of  a 
lighter  nature  to  carry,  the  women  did  the  carrying  and 


220  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

not  the  men.  Such  was  the  custom,  and  no  one  thought 
it  out  of  place,  the  women  least  of  all.  Heavier  burdens 
would,  of  course,  have  been  unhesitatingly  shouldered 
by  the  men.  It  is  amusing  to  think  that  these  meek  help- 
mates share  the  right  of  suffrage  with  their  husbands. 
For  some  years  man  and  wife  have  gone  to  the  polls  to- 
gether. 

Arrived  at  our  destination,  the  women  silently  filed 
into  the  church,  while  the  men  scattered  about  in  little 
groups  to  discuss  the  weather  and  kindred  subjects. 
Other  crowds  were  arriving  in  the  same  fashion,  from 
various  directions,  the  women  streaming  into  the  church 
and  the  men  halting  outside.  Even  after  the  last  bell 
had  rung,  there  were  still  many  loiterers  outside  who 
could  not  make  up  their  minds  to  enter  before  the  service 
was  well  under  way.  The  women  sat  together  on  the  left 
side,  while  the  men,  from  age-long  custom,  turned  in- 
variably to  the  right.  The  seats  had  very  low  backs, 
making  it  difficult  to  take  a  nap  during  the  sermon,  yet 
in  spite  of  this  there  were  nodding  heads  to  be  seen  here 
and  there.  The  minister  was  of  a  rather  erratic  cast, 
and  certain  parts  of  his  discourse  came  out  with  ex- 
plosive force,  startling  his  hearers  very  much  and  the 
sleepers  in  particular.  One  sweetly  slumbering  old 
gentleman,  suddenly  aroused,  tumbled  to  the  floor  in  his 
excitement.  Though  odd  and  eccentric,  the  minister  was 
a  scholar  and  thinker,  delivering  himself  of  much 
splendid  thought  and  a  pure  gospel  of  salvation. 

In  my  visits  among  the  country  people,  and  espe- 
cially the  old,  I  had  been  profoundly  impressed  by  the 
deep  and  sound  insight  in  spiritual  matters  among  many 
of  them,  but  found  it  not  at  all  surprising  when  con- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  221 

sidering  their  excellent  source  of  teaching  and  knowl- 
edge. The  hymn  collections  of  the  church  of  Norway 
struck  me  as  being  particularly  rich  and  appropriate. 
Nowhere,  according  to  my  opinion,  does  there  exist  any 
better.  To  my  great  surprise  and  downright  dismay  I 
learned  that  some  of  the  laity,  including  most  of  those 
who  frequent  the  more  private  religious  gatherings,  often 
set  aside  the  grand  old  hymns  and  substitute  inferior 
melodies  and  nondescript  verse  borrowed  from  roaming 
Salvationists  and  other  gospel-mongers.  To  the  accom- 
paniment of  a  guitar  they  will  sing  these  cheap  melodies 
over  and  over  and  over  again,  with  an  endless  repetition 
of  words.  May  the  grand  old  songs  and  melodies  always 
remain  in  vogue  and  sacred,  and  not  be  displaced  by 
such  catch-penny  productions ! 

The  cemetery  near  the  church  contained  many 
graves,  but  scarcely  any  grave  stones.  There  were  many 
wooden  crosses,  with  names  and  dates,  and  just  a  few  of 
iron.  In  a  grave  ornamented  by  one  of  these  rested  Ola 
Andrias  Anderson  Aasbu,  Barbru's  husband.  She  told 
me  that  in  digging  the  newer  graves  it  frequently  hap- 
pend  that  the  bones  of  earlier  occupants  were  disturbed. 
On  account  of  the  rocks  and  stones  it  is  not  so  easy  to 
find  sufficiently  deep  soil  for  a  graveyard  in  many  parts 
of  Norway  as  in  Iowa ;  hence,  lots  are  at  a  premium, 
causing  crowding  upon  other  lots,  especially  where  all 
vestiges  of  former  mounds  have  disappeared.  Smaller 
stones  with  but  the  coarsest  of  inscriptions  would  be 
better  than  nothing,  to  mark  the  graves,  and  would  pre- 
vent re-openings  and  other  similar  cruel  mistakes.  In- 
scriptions on  iron  shafts  are  but  short-lived.  In  some 
districts  on  account  of  the  dearth  of  soil  hundreds  of 


222  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

cartloads  of  it  have  been  dumped  upon  the  bury  ing- 
ground  to  provide  a  sufficient  depth  for  the  proper  inter- 
ment of  the  dead. 

During  my  last  visit  to  Tjernagel  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  accompanying  cousin  Johan,  Barbru's  eldest  son,  on 
a  little  fishing  expedition  in  a  bay  of  the  fjord  right 
near  his  home.  We  chanced  upon  a  great  shoal  of  fish, 
and  a  more  interesting  sight  I  do  not  believe  it  often  falls 
to  the  lot  of  any  one  to  see.  The  weather  was  very 
favorable  for  fishing  purposes  that  morning,  as  we  lay  a 
little  distance  off  shore,  sighting  through  water  telescopes 
for  the  merry  revellers  of  the  deep.  We  could  see  the 
silvery  sheen  of  the  darting  forms  glinting  beneath  the 
glossy  blue.  As  yet,  however,  the  experienced  eye  of 
the  fisherman  saw  that  the  time  was  not  ripe  for  throw- 
ing the  nets.  I  gazed  around  at  the  lovely  scenery  as 
the  morning  sun  burnished  the  cliffs  and  crags  with  gold, 
and  I  heard  the  distant  tinkling  of  sheep  bells,  the  dairy- 
maid's call  across  the  fjord,  heard  —  what  sound  was 
that?  I  was  startled  out  of  my  indifferently  listening 
attitude  into  one  of  rapt  attention.  A  furious,  rushing 
sound,  somewhat  like  escaping  steam,  but  with  more 
of  the  note  of  a  living  voice  in  it,  burst  upon  our  ears. 
I  searched  heaven  and  earth  for  the  cause,  but  became 
no  wiser.  Cousin  Johan  looked  at  me  and  smiled  —  he 
knew.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  a  flock  of  sea-birds 
appeared  and  set  up  a  fearful  racket.  When  the  whale 
blew  again,  I  had  him  "spotted,"  and  knew  as  well  as 
he  and  the  birds  what  the  uproar  stood  for.  The  prey 
pulled  toward  the  shore,  inside  the  bay,  scared  to  death 
at  the  fearful  monster  blubbering  at  their  heels,  who 
could  swallow  them  by  the  bushel,  or  even  faster,  and 
they  hurried  obligingly  into  the  nets,  and  —  Johan  in- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


223 


224  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

stead  of  the  whale  had  them.  They  were  little  herrings, 
several  hundred  bushels  of  them,  and  a  wonderful  sight 
they  were  when  penned  up.  As  we  hung  over  them  in 
our  boats  they  would  sometimes  rise  quite  close  to  the 
surface,  but  if  we  showed  them  so  much  as  a  finger  they 
would  scatter,  frantically,  by  the  million.  Johan  was 
happy.  Thus  nature  makes  provision ;  meanwhile,  Om- 
nipotence reigns. 

Of  Mt.  Siggen  I  had  heard  tell  since  childhood,  and 
upon  seeing  it  as  it  sat  peaked  and  solitary  on  Bremnas, 
straight  across  the  fjord  from  where  I  was  staying,  I 
determined  to  climb  it.  I  took  the  steamer  from  Tjer- 
nagel  to  Mosterhaven  and  landed  thus  on  Moster  Island 
which  has  the  honor  of  bearing  on  its  little  back,  besides 
the  station  and  many  pretty  farms,  the  famous  Moster 
church,  Norway's  oldest.  It  was  built  about  a  thousand 
years  ago  by  Olaf  the  Holy  and  retains  the  old  walls 
intact,  their  generous  thickness  serving  as  a  shield  against 
the  wear  and  tear  of  the  elements.' 

The  interior  of  the  church  appeared  dark  and 
gloomy,  owing  to  the  fewness  and  smallness  of  the  win- 
dows; for  it  was  a  bright  day  outside.  Ventilation  was 
entirely  lacking,  and  there  was  an  accumulated  church- 
odor  of  centuries.  In  one  of  the  walls  is  said  to  be 
an  elongated  hole,  not  through  it,  but  running  length- 
wise, piercing  its  middle  and  communicating  with  a 
space  at  either  end.  No  doubt  these  tubes  in  the  wall 
had  carried  marry  a  prayer  and  sweet  message  through- 
out the  long  yesterday  of  a  thousand  years  —  and  hisses, 
and  threats  and  vituperations  too,  who  knows! 

The  altar  was  a  diminutive  affair,  with  scarcely 
standing  room  inside  the  little  railing  surrounding  it  for 
the  minister  to  kneel  and  turn  around  in  as  he  pro- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  22$ 

nounced  the  blessing,  or  administered  sacrament  to  the 
eight  kneeling  communicants,  the  limit  of  the  number 
that  might  partake  at  once.  The  bench-posts  were  high, 
with  doors  hinged  to  them  at  the  entrance  to  the  seats, 
which  had  flat  bottoms,  and  these  became  as  hard 
as  stone  when  the  services  dragged.  If  I  remember 
correctly,  it  was  in  this  church  that  the  pew-backs  were 
so  high  that  we  could  only  obtain  fleeting  glimpses  of 
venerable  white  crowns,  yellow  curls,  or  head-shawls, 
as  we  sat  up  to  our  necks  in  similar  enclosures.  There 
was  a  raised  pulpit  on  the  right  side,  enabling  the  congre- 
gation to  view  the  minister  plainly,  though  not  each 
other,  while  the  pulpit  commanded  a  view  of  every  cor- 
ner. The  woodwork  in  the  belfry  and  elsewhere  was 
unnecessarily  massive,  I  thought,  even  though  planned 
to  last  a  thousand  years  or  more;  the  builders  wisely 
preferred  to  be  on  the  safe  side.  In  the  God's-acre 
about  the  church  was  an  upright  stone  with  a  narrow 
top  through  which  a  slit  showed,  the  hole  having  been 
formed  by  Holy  Olaf's  foot  when  he  kicked  at  this 
particular  spot  to  make  a  place  to  tie  his  horse.  The 
form  of  the  boot  instep  shows  on  one  side,  and  the  place 
where  the  battered  toes  went  through  on  the  other.  Let 
not  the  reader  imagine  that  this  story  is  merely  a  modern 
fabrication ;  years  ago  it  was  actually  believed  by  many. 
And  there  are  remnants  of  ancient  superstitions  clinging 
to  the  moss  in  the  old  log  walls  of  many  a  backwoods 
hut  to  this  day.  The  numerous  "huldrer  and  trold" 
(gnomes  and  hob-gobblins)  helped  to  augment  the  popu- 
lation of  Norway  in  olden  times,  but  of  late  they  are 
rarely  seen,  and  when  I  visited  their  former  haunts  and 
trysting  places  not  a  one  could  be  induced  to  come  forth. 
They  have  always  been  a  shy  sort,  in  fact,  so  much  so 
15 


226  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

that  those  who  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  them  never 
succeeded  in  getting  a  near  view  so  as  to  determine 
exactly  how  they  looked.  And  to  get  a  photograph,  be 
it  but  a  snap-shot,  is  entirely  out  of  the  question,  I  am 
told. 

As  I  was  leaving  the  church  I  was  pounced  upon  by 
an  old  lady  from  Bergen  with  whom  I  had  become  ac- 
quainted on  a  steamer  trip,  and  who  now  bade  me  come 
with  her  to  her  summer  villa  near  by  for  afternoon 
coffee.  The  coffee  was  only  a  pretext,  but  it  served  as 
an  excellent  excuse  for  a  good  chat  together.  "Efter- 
middags  kaffe"  (afternoon  coffee)  is  a  misappellation ; 
its  name  should  be  "gossip."  I  enjoyed  that  hour  with 
the  good  lady  and  her  friends  as  much  as  if  it  had  been 
a  banquet,  and  even  more.  In  Norway  I  have  met 
several  good  souls  who  actually  seem  to  be  on  the  look- 
out for  chances  to  cheer  other  people's  hearts. 

To  stumble  unexpectedly  across  relatives  was  my 
good  fortune  here  as  in  so  many  other  places  in  Norway. 
It  was  a  delight  to  me  to  surprise  them  and  to  study 
form  and  feature,  to  discover  points  of  facial  resemblance 
and  other  well  known  family  characteristics.  At  Totland 
"gaard"  (farm)  I  came  across  a  distant  branch  of  our 
clan.  My  advent  caused  a  distinct  sensation;  a  flying 
machine  could  not  have  been  more  unexpected.  They 
searched  their  memories  to  establish  the  chain  of  con- 
nection between  us,  and,  this  chain  once  recovered,  they 
grew  eager  to  strengthen  each  link  as  a  security  against 
future  forget  fulness.  Like  many,  many  others  here,  they 
opened  to  me  their  hearts  regarding  the  slimness  of  their 
incomes  and  the  barren  prospects  for  future  pecuniary 
progress  and  success.  But  generally  they  bore  their 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  227 

burdens  sturdily  and  cheerfully.  "For  if  we  have  enough 
to  eat  and  wear,"  they  would  say,  "we  should  not 
complain."  And  they  have  more.  The  climate  is  fine, 
the  scenery  interesting,  schools  excellent,  church  op- 
portunities good,  and  peace  reigns  over  all. 


CHAPTER  XX 
Moster  Island  and  Mount  Siggen 

mOSTER  Island  is  indeed  a  rare  and  pretty  spot. 
My  first  visit  there  occurred  in  the  midst  of 
haying.  The  day  was  fine  and  the  air  filled 
with  sweet  fragrance  from  the  wilted  blossoms  strewn 
about,  millions  of  sweet  faces  laid  low,  the  pride  of  the 
roadside,  and  only  fated  to  stiffen  and  bleach  for  the 
harvest.  Men  and  maids,  old  and  young,  gathered 
peaceably  about,  to  work  if  necessary,  though  none 
seemed  over-actively  employed.  Though  all  meant  to 
be  busy,  not  merely  the  work,  but  also  the  trouble  of 
getting  out  of  each  other's  way,  gave  them  employment. 
The  little  farms  were  set  so  close  together  that  the  differ- 
ent families  had  social  intercourse  in  the  hay-field,  and 
not  only  in  the  parlor.  There  was  time  for  talk  as  well 
as  work ;  and  over  the  low  stone  fences,  many  a  stealthy 
glance  was  exchanged  between  young  folk,  forgetful  of 
their  task  and  the  world  just  then.  Their  eyes  spoke 
the  secret  of  the  soul,  a  secret  that  they  felt,  but  could 
not  undersand.  As  little  as  any  one  else  these  rural 
folk  realize  the  why  and  wherefore  of  their  fancies,  but 
the  impulses  of  the  heart  are  not  lightly  to  be  dis- 
regarded. Sad  to  say,  coercion  on  the  part  of  parents 
to  secure  other  and  better  matches  for  their  children 
than  their  own  fancy  dictates,  is  very  frequent  in  Nor- 
way, and  has  caused  many  a  loveless  marriage.  Money, 
everywhere  the  root  of  all  evil,  is  even  here  responsible 
for  much  harm. 

(228) 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  22Q 

The  hay  was  cocked  up  and  spread  out  again  several 
times  before  it  was  finally  considered  cured.  Sometimes 
it  is  hung  up  to  dry  on  wires  strung  out  one  above  an- 
other on  posts  five  or  six  feet  in  height.  In  case  of 
rain,  the  upper  batch  receives  the  brunt  of  it,  protecting 
more  or  less  those  below.  Protracted  wet  weather  causes 
mildew  and  hurts  the  quality  of  the  hay,  with  conse- 
quent heavy  loss  to  the  owner.  The  hay  is  always 
housed,  so  that  no  swarthy-coated,  rain-drenched  hay- 
stacks are  to  be  seen  anywhere. 

Although  the  spell  of  the  lovely  island-spot  was 
upon  me,  the  insistent  beckoning  of  Mt.  Siggen  which 
drew  nearer  and  nearer  as  I  loitered  on  along  the  road- 
side, finally  proved  a  more  potent  charm,  causing  an 
involuntary  quickening  of  my  steps  in  its  direction.  I 
soon  came  upon  a  little  sound,  only  a  rod  wide,  separat- 
ing the  island  from  the  main  land;  but  it  might  have 
been  still  more  insignificant  and  yet  have  prevented  my 
passage;  for  the  tide  was  in,  making  the  sound  pretty 
deep,  while  the  boat  I  wanted  lay  secured  ever  so  snugly 
on  the  other  side.  There  was  a  house  showing  between 
the  pines  a  little  distance  away,  and  toward  it  I  directed 
the  full  force  of  my  lungs.  This  soon  roused  an  im- 
portant-looking dog  that  came  eagerly  to  bark  and  an- 
nounce that  I  was  not  welcome.  The  barking  roused 
his  master,  an  old  man  who  was  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  that  famous  Norwegian  solace,  the  beloved  afternoon 
nap,  and  who  eyed  me  sourly  upon  being  thus  rudely 
disturbed.  He  shoved  the  boat  over  to  my  side  without 
ado,  and  drew  me  across  in  a  twinkling.  I  then  gave 
him  a  coin,  saying,  "Var  so  god"  (used  invariably  when 
anything  is  tendered,  but  cannot  be  properly  translated. 
"Please  to  accept"  conveys  the  meaning  fairly  well), 


230  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

upon  which  he  doffed  his  hat,  said,  "Mange  tak"  (many 
thanks),  and  the  proceeding  was  at  an  end.  Before  go- 
ing, the  idea  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  save  much 
trouble  if  the  boat  were  attached  to  an  endless  rope 
extending  across  the  sound,  thus  enabling  each  comer 
to  ferry  himself  over.  But  I  had  forgotten  about  the  toll 
and  the  officious  dog. 

This  region  is  called  "Guds  rige,"  (God's  kingdom), 
because  the  surroundings  are  thought  to  be  so  very 
attractive. 

At  the  place  I  had  taken  lodging  the  good  host  pre- 
vailed upon  the  hired  girl  to  row  me  over  the  bay,  from 
whence  I  might  reach  the  best  point  to  ascend  Mt.  Sig- 
gen.  At  first  I  would  have  none  of  it,  but  when  the  girl 
calmly  assured  me  she  could  accommodate  another  dozen 
like  me,  and  when,  unaided,  she  launched  the  boat  and 
announced  that  we  must  be  off,  I  acquiesced  and  meekly 
sat  down  in  the  end  reserved  for  me,  admitting  willingly 
that  she  was  the  better  man. 

Arrived  at  the  other  shore,  I  got  out  without  assist- 
ance, my  companion  being  too  busy  with  the  boat  to  lend 
me  a  helping  hand.  I  thought  to  take  revenge  by  climb- 
ing the  mountain  alone,  and  intimated  that  such  was 
my  wish,  but  it  would  have  been  better  had  I  engaged 
this  capable  maiden  as  guide. 

I  felt  equal  to  several  mountains  while  at  its  base, 
but  had  not  proceeded  far  in  the  ascent  before  this  feel- 
ing wore  off.  I  decided  to  be  satisfied  with  this  one 
mountain  for  that  day,  but  on  the  morrow  we  might 
perhaps  do  two  or  three  —  that  is,  if  all  went  well.  On 
the  way  I  met  Jakob  Haavig,  an  old  playmate  of  my 
mother's  who  was  dumfounded  when  I  told  him  my 
destination.  What  attraction  that  gray  old  mountain 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  231 

could  have  for  anyone,  he  could  not  see.  Though  he 
lived  under  its  very  shadow,  he  admitted  he  had  scarcely 
seen  its  top.  If  it  had  not  been  for  those  roving  sheep  he 
would  never  have  wasted  a  single  step  on  it.  Jakob  quite 
failed  to  grasp  the  situation,  and  I  did  not  try  to  help 
him.  It  would  have  taken  years  to  change  his  point 
of  view.  He  showed  me  the  way,  confused  me  with  a 
lot  of  glibly-spoken  directions,  as  is  so  often  the  case  — 
directions  to  which  one  answers  breathlessly  "yes"  a 
hundred  times,  as  though  it  were  as  plain  as  day,  mean- 
time remembering  not  a  thing.  I  retained,  however,  a 
hazy  notion  as  to  where  the  top  lay,  and  in  that  general 
direction  I  now  walked  or  crawled,  eager  and  happy  and 
feeling  myself  quite  superior  to  Jakob  and  his  directions. 

To  one  reared  on  the  prairie  such  a  climb  is  indeed 
an  experience,  to  which  an  ounce  of  timidity  only  gives 
added  zest.  It  was  such  a  delight  to  me  to  hop  from 
stone  to  stone  and  bob  into  strange,  ever-varying  corners 
and  crevices,  that  I  forgot  to  be  afraid  or  cautious,  and 
blundered  gleefully  along,  serenely  satisfied  and  content. 
And,  strangely  enough,  I  did  not  miss  my  bearings,  if 
I  really  had  any,  and,  thus  borne  aloft  on  the  wings  of 
faith  and  enthusiasm,  I  soon  gained  the  top,  safe  and 
sound,  and  eagerly  drank  in  the  view  before  me. 

The  wind  stumbled  heavily,  so  to  speak,  as  it  found 
itself  suddenly  barred  in  its  progress,  not  having  encoun- 
tered a  single  obstacle  since  it  left  England,  and  having 
grown  rough  and  boisterous  in  its  play  with  the  yielding 
ocean  waves.  I  met  its  impact  with  deep  inhalations  and 
wide  embrace,  for  after  my  heated  climb  I  liked  the  feel- 
ing of  its  rough  caress  and  its  pure  breath,  coming  as 
it  did  direct  from  its  bath  in  the  sea.  Though  the  west- 
ern ocean  was  quite  deeply  stirred  by  the  teasing  breeze, 


232  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

from  my  height  it  appeared  to  lie  in  peaceful  calm,  with 
not  a  tremor  showing  on  its  surface.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
had  covered  itself  and  its  denizens  with  a  blanket  of 
repose,  and  my  imagination  failed  in  its  attempt  to  pic- 
ture the  turmoil  I  knew  existed  beneath.  The  land  lay 
as  if  it  had  been  torn  into  fragments  and  flung  in  every 
direction.  There  were  numberless  islands,  large  and 
small,  countless  little  capes  and  peninsulas,  millions  of 
irregular  formations  that  have  no  name  at  all;  and  yet 
there  was  in  it  all  a  certain  symmetry  that  no  regular 
plan  could  have  produced.  From  my  elevated  view-point 
the  whole  landscape  appeared  to  have  put  on  a  suit  of 
lifeless  brown ;  the  green  of  the  valleys  and  forests  had 
faded  away  and  given  place  to  similar  somber  garb.  The 
ocean  alone  seemed  capable  of  holding  its  own,  retaining 
its  usual  blue;  nor  had  the  heavens  changed  any,  but 
the  clouds  were  not  the  same,  betraying  to  me  their 
unsubstantial  nature  as  they  flung  their  bodies  threaten- 
ingly against  the  mountain  top,  enveloping  it  and  me 
in  their  clammy,  ghost-like  embrace.  Though  it  obscured 
the  view  of  the  sleeping  world  beneath,  I  clung  to  the 
cairn  near  by  till  the  main  body  of  the  vapor  lifted, 
wherupon  I  bethought  myself  of  the  flight  of  time  and  of 
the  descent.  While  the  vaporous  shadow  hung  over 
me,  a  loosely  placed  stone  in  the  cairn  took  to  tapping  in 
the  wind,  and  I  was  instantly  made  mindful  of  the 
builder  of  it,  Lars  0iro,  our  neighbor  in  America.  The 
knockings  sounded  supernatural  enough,  and  the  fog 
thickening  again  suddenly  decided  me  in  favor  of  going, 
and  downward  I  accordingly  straightway  plunged.  There 
was  much  aimless  groping  about,  and  I  caught  several 
tumbles,  but  luckily  recived  no  bruises.  A  flock  of 
sheep  helped  me  out,  for  they  took  a  notion  to  go  home 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  233 

that  night,  having  evidently  become  alarmed  at  the  Mys- 
terious Presence  capering  about  behind  them.  Though 
the  mountain  was  not  large  and  there  would,  no  doubt, 
have  been  another  way  for  me  to  take  besides  the  one 
chosen  by  the  sheep,  I  longed  for  their  company,  but 
had  to  fly  sometimes  in  order  to  retain  it.  My  longings 
were  unreciprocated,  however,  and  the  flock  would  gladly 
have  "shaken  me,"  but  did  not  seem  capable  of  out- 
witting me  —  I  felt  a  bit  superior,  but  to  tell  the  truth  one 
need  not  be  so  surprisingly  clever  to  be  able  to  hold  his 
own  among  sheep  —  and  they  finally  arrived,  panting, 
at  Steensland  "gaard,"  situated  just  across  the  bay  from 
Kalevig,  having  led  their  palpitating  shepherd  an  hour's 
merry  dance. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
In  Sondhordland 

IT  was  towards  the  latter  part  of  August  that  I  found 
myself,  one  beautiful  dreamy  morning,  on  board 
the  steamer  Hordaland,  bound  for  Forde  in  Sond- 
hordland. Our  little  steamer  made  all  the  noise  it  could 
as  it  passed  through  the  tiny  F0resfjord,  waking  the 
echoes  on  every  hand  and  sending  its  hoarse  whistle  into 
every  nook  and  corner,  whence  came  echoing  back  the 
most  doleful  sounds,  back  from  the  hills  and  dells,  crags 
and  cliffs.  The  crew  and  pasengers  were  a  happy  lot, 
and  if  one  might  judge  the  human  family  by  the  indi- 
vidual samples  on  board  the  Norwegian  tra'ins  and  in- 
land steamers,  this  old  world  would  seem  a  cheerful 
place  indeed.  Mingling  with  them,  one  cannot  fail  to 
note  the  spirit  of  genuine  trust  they  repose  in  one 
another. 

The  purser  was  the  least  concerned  individual  on 
board.  He  knew  that  if  he  did  not  collect  all  the  fares, 
the  ones  he  had  overlooked  were  honest  and  would  not 
let  him  rest  in  peace  till  he  had  been  paid  his  due.  At 
least,  so  it  looked  to  me,  if  I  might  judge  from  the 
fact  that  in  his  occasional  rounds  he  left  it  to  the  pas- 
sengers to  report  the  particular  station  at  which  each 
had  boarded  the  boat.  One  gets  the  impression  from 
the  mass  of  the  rural  population  that  they  have  never 
wakened  to  the  actuality  of  trickery  and  deceit.  For  in- 
stance, the  idea  of  losing  a  satchel,  an  umbrella,  a  purse 

(234) 


WALKING  TRIPS   IN    NORWAY  235 

or  other  article,  by  theft  —  why  it  is  preposterous, 
absurd ! 

Fjzfrde  is  a  little  agricultural  oasis  in  the  midst  of 
territory  more  or  less  barren.  To  the  passengers  whose 
eyes  had  become  sated  with  rocks  and  heathery  stretches, 
the  green-crested  hillocks  and  pretty  meadows  coming 
into  view  here  proved  refreshing  indeed.  There  was 
the  usual  open-eyed  scrutiny  from  the  expectant  throng 
at  the  pier,  the  more  or  less  clumsy  throwing  of  cables 
to  secure  the  vessel  in  place,  the  lazy  scramble  to  fasten 
them  on  the  capstan  by  those  in  charge  or  others,  the 
usual  quiet,  unhurried  manner  of  all,  this  and  more  of 
the  same  kind  served  to  give  interest  to  the  occasion. 

The  scenery  along  the  F^rde-Framnes  road  is 
highly  picturesque.  An  almost  hidden  avenue  opens 
shyly  between  the  pines  at  a  little  distance  from  the  road 
leading  to  a  series  of  lovely  little  lakes  nestling  amid  the 
hills  beyond.  The  hills  are  covered  with  pretty  pine 
growths  and  each  lake  sits  in  its  own  hollow  hidden 
from  the  other,  being  connected  but  by  slender  sounds 
barely  of  sufficient  width  to  enable  one  to  make  passage 
either  in  boat  or  when  skating,  without  touching  land. 
A  more  beautifully  arranged  skating  ground  I  have 
never  hit  upon.  The  fine  surroundings  add  much  to 
the  charm  of  the  situation.  The  young  folks  foregather 
here  during  winter  and  enjoy  the  most  glorious  fun  in 
playing  hide  and  seek  among  these  jolly,  freakish 
stretches  that  Dame  Nature  seems  to  have  provided  for 
this  very  purpose.  The  Norwegians  are  good  skaters, 
and  they  ought  to  be,  for  the  numerous  lakes  and  fjords 
afford  them  the  best  possible  opportunity  to  become 
proficient  in  this  excellent  sport. 

As  I  emerged  from  the  fastnesses  of  the  woods,  and 


236  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

drew  past  a  few  dreary  stretches  of  rocks  and  boulders, 
I  found  myself  on  the  sunny  slopes  of  Framnes,  which 
juts  into  the  very  bosom  of  Aalf  jord.  The  sea  lay  calm, 
smooth  and  inviting  and  I  determined,  if  possible,  to 
make  the  passage  to  Trovaag  that  evening,  the  "if" 
hinging  altogether  on  the  boatman  who,  I  thought,  rea- 
sonably enough,  might  be  located  here  somewhere.  So 
did  the  others,  for  at  each  house  where  I  asked  for 
"skyds,"  they  always  thought  surely  I  would  be  accom- 
modated at  the  next.  I  was  making  my  last  stand  be- 
fore the  only  house  left,  and  had  but  opened  the 
door,  when  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a  surprised 
person  who  still  held  his  hand  poised  to  grab  the  door- 
handle, for  he  had  been  on  the  point  of  going  out  when 
I  pulled  the  door  away  from  him  to  go  in.  Under  these 
circumstances  it  took  him  some  time  to  collect  his  wits 
and  find  his  voice.  I  followed  him  into  the  house,  and 
there  I  learned,  after  some  preliminaries,  that  if  I 
thought  of  going  to  Trovaag  I  ought  to  set  about  it 
promptly.  He  murmured  something  about  doing  a  man 
a  favor  and  absented  himself  forthwith.  I  looked  ques- 
tioningly  at  the  wife  and  eight  children  in  whose  midst 
I  sat,  and  I  was  given  to  understand  that  the  father  had 
only  gone  out  to  see  about  the  boat  and  would  soon  be 
back.  All  the  children  were  young,  as  was  their  mother 
also.  She  looked  healthy,  and  so  did  they.  They  all 
looked  steadily  at  the  visitor,  who  in  turn  regarded  them 
with  unfeigned  delight.  For  every  smile  given  they 
slowly  gave  back  little  ones  of  their  own,  but  never  in- 
dulged them  too  freely  for  fear  of  seeming  too  bold  and 
brave,  which  they  were  not.  One  little  fellow  looked  so 
long  and  fixedly  at  me  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  being 
hypnotized,  but,  luckily  for  me,  when  he  had  reached 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  237 

the  height  of  his  hypnotic  influence,  he  dropped  asleep, 
and  the  spell  was  off.  I  asked  the  good  mother  what  par- 
ticular food  she  had  hit  upon  to  feed  and  fatten  up 
her  flock  so  successfully.  I  took  her  by  surprise,  for 
she  had  to  admit  that  she  had  never  given  the  matter 
a  thought,  and  answered  that  she  gave  them  only  of  the 
simplest,  for  they  were  many  and  the  husband's  wages 
small.  She  told  me  she  fed  them  mostly  "flad  br0d," 
rye  bread,  skim-milk,  cheese  and  potatoes,  with  now  and 
then  a  little  meat  and  fish.  There  was  often  nothing 
but  "flad-br^d"  and  sour  skim-milk.  On  this  each  could 
make  a  meal  costing  about  one  cent.  Had  their  sound 
little  stomachs  been  introduced  to  cake  and  pie  and  other 
rich  and  highly  seasoned  foods,  the  rosy  cheeks  would, 
no  doubt,  soon  have  taken  on  a  less  attractive  hue.  I 
ventured  to  remark  that  the  family  shoe  bill  must  needs 
be  large,  whereupon  I  was  told  that  there  was  hardly 
any  expense  for  shoes  at  all,  the  husband  and  father 
during  winter  making  wooden  shoes  for  all  the  family. 
With  good,  home-knitted  woolen  stockings,  these  an- 
swered their  purpose  very  well,  keeping  the  feet  airy, 
dry  and  warm,  better  than  leather. 

I  surmised  that  the  lady  of  the  house  must  be  a 
very  busy  woman  with  so  many  youngsters  to  care  for 
and  with  so  little  help.  She  rather  thought  not,  for  their 
fare  was  so  exceedingly  plain  that  it  did  not  require 
much  effort  to  prepare  it,  nor  to  clear  the  table  after- 
wards. And  as  all  the  family  spent  most  of  their  wak- 
ing hours  either  out  of  doors  or  in  the  one  large  room, 
the  house  was  easily  looked  after.  There  was  no  dust- 
ing of  any  unused  parlor  in  this  establishment.  Home- 
spun, made  never  to  wear  out,  supplied  breeches  for  the 
little  fellows,  and  these  were  handed  from  older  to 


238  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

younger  in  regular  succession.  Boys'  suits  were  made 
from  the  same  material  as  well  as. dresses  for  the  girls, 
and,  whether  for  winter  or  summer,  the  staunch  stuff 
served  its  purpose  well.  These  people  lived  simple  lives, 
but  they  were  healthy,  intelligent  and  God-fearing,  and 
to  all  appearance,  content. 

As  my  good  friend  and  I  sat  squarely  facing  each 
other  while  rowing,  we  could  hardly  do  aught  but  talk. 
I  wanted  to  help  ply  the  oars  but  at  this  suggestion  he 
looked  actually  horror-stricken,  whereupon  I  quickly  de- 
cided not  to  say  another  word  on  the  subject.  Meanwhile 
I  admired  the  view  behind  his  back  —  a  view  that  I  had 
time  to  study  in  every  detail  before  the  scene  was  shifted. 
We  pass  thus  into  the  future  backwards,  as  did  my  oars- 
man, who  saw  only  the  receding  panorama  as  he  drove 
his  craft  trustingly  onwards. 

My  companion  pointed  out  the  enormous  growths 
of  seaweed  that  lay  bobbing  fantastically,  half  sub- 
merged, in  weird-looking  clusters  near  the  shore,  and 
explained  that  this  marine  vegetation  was  but  seldom 
used  for  feed  or  fuel,  but  sometimes  for  manure,  al- 
though few  took  the  trouble  to  dredge  for  it.  He  said 
that  as  a  rule  the  people  were  too  easy-going  to  hunt  up 
work  in  this  manner. 

The  good  man  confided  to  me  that  he  had  often 
thought  of  going  to  America  for  the  sake  of  his  family, 
but  as  long  as  they  all  were  happy  and  content  here,  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  engage  in  such  an  under- 
taking. He  desired  my  opinion,  and  being  directly  asked, 
I  concluded  it  safe  to  give  it,  and  told  him  that  if  he 
journeyed  the  world  over  he  would  find  nothing  worth 
exchanging  for  happiness  and  contentment,  even  though 
he  might  change  places  with  princes  or  plutocrats.  He 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  239 

seemed  to  like  my  answer  and  rowed  faster  and  better 
than  before,  and  even  essayed  to  sing  a  song.  He  did 
not  hesitate  to  admit  that  the  secret  of  his  happiness  lay 
in  an  unquestioning  belief  in  his  Lord  and  Saviour,  as 
revealed  to  him  in  the  Good  Book  and  by  daily  associa- 
tion with  him  in  prayer.  So  many  are  ashamed  to 
mention  God  and  his  attributes  except  in  discussion  and 
argument  that  it  was  indeed  a  privilege  to  meet  this 
good  soul  who  spoke  of  Him  so  openly  and  without  a 
touch  of  worldly  fear  or  scruple. 

There  was  the  barest  touch  of  a  breeze,  which 
somewhat  lessened  the  effort  of  rowing,  yet  was  suf- 
ficient to  stir  into  action  a  million  little  waves  that  played 
and  danced  about  the  boat,  sending  back  innumerable 
reflections  of  the  sun's  rays.  It  was  a  delight  to  watch 
these  pretty  antics  of  the  water  but  it  came  into  our 
minds  as  a  regret,  just  then,  that  nature  has  to  make  so 
many  wonderful  waves  and  other  things  of  beauty  that 
no  one  ever  sees.  It  is  our  loss,  however,  not  Nature's, 
for  she  is  satisfied  with  exhibiting  her  wonders  before 
the  all-seeing,  appreciative  eye  of  the  Creator,  Nature's 
keeper. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  Trovaag  my  friend  seemed  loth 
to  return,  for  we  had  enjoyed  each  other's  society  and 
would  fain  have  prolonged  the  enjoyment.  Like  nearly 
all  others  among  the  rural  population  to  whom  I  have 
paid  money  in  this  country,  there  was  no  careful  scrutiny 
of  my  offering,  nor  did  he  any  more  than  the  others, 
appear  to  accept  it  otherwise  than  with  a  sort  of  reluc- 
tance. They  would  talk  about  the  weather  or  most  any 
subject  except  the  matter  in  hand,  but  when  once  the 
money  was  in  their  actual  possession,  forced  upon  them, 
as  it  were,  they  would  utter  their  thanks  as  if  for  a  gift 


240  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

instead  of  a  payment  for  services  rendered.  It  looked 
beautiful  to  me,  for  it  was  without  affectation,  and  but 
typical  of  their  modest,  generous  natures. 

At  Trovaag  I  came  upon  a  post-office  and  country 
store,  but  as  neither  met  any  of  my  requirements,  and 
no  lodging-place  was  to  be  had,  I  promptly  turned  my 
steps  toward  the  old  mill  nearby,  owned  by  a  one-time 
American.  Here,  according  to  my  informant,  I  might 
possibly  be  received  for  the  night.  But  in  this  I  was 
disappointed,  for  the  miller  had  no  spare  bed,  nor  was 
he  very  well  satisfied  with  his  own  lone  couch,  since  his 
littered  office,  bed-room  and  sitting-room,  all  in  one, 
gave  evidence  of  being  thoroughly  infested  by  fleas.  He 
promised  to  find  me  a  place  for  the  night;  meantime  we 
must  see  the  mill  and  have  a  chat  about  America.  The 
buildings  were  hoary  with  age  and  a  coating  of  meal, 
while  the  interior  was  murky  and  gray  from  years  of 
accumulated  dust  and  of  neglect.  The  machinery  was 
largely  of  an  ancient  pattern,  and  much  broken  refuse  lay 
scattered  about.  The  affair  was  run  by  water-power 
supplied  by  a  lake  owned  by  the  proprietor.  Though  it 
was  such  a  topsy-turvy  looking  establishment  the  owner 
claimed  he  did  a  good  business,  mainly  because  of  the 
discontinuance  of  many  smaller  mills  in  the  surrounding 
country.  Many  look  askance  at  this  change  fearing  that 
it  will  have  a  tendency  to  discourage  home  thrift,  other 
innovations  of  similar  character  having  also  made  their 
appearance. 

The  old  miller  told  me  he  had  lived  a  while  in 
America  long  before  I  was  born.  He  spent  two  weary 
months  on  the  voyage  over,  but  once  on  land  he  did 
not  remain  idle  a  moment,  but,  together  with  his  com- 
panion, a  mutual  friend,  as  it  proved,  he  became  a  wood- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


241 


16 


242  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

chopper,  and,  workmen  being  scarce,  considerable  money 
was  before  long  coaxed  into  his  keeping.  It  was  touch- 
ing to  note  his  eagerness  upon  hearing  the  news  of  his  old 
friend  who,  to  my  knowledge,  had  located  at  Story 
City,  Iowa,  while  he,  the  miller,  immediately  upon  acquir- 
ing a  competence,  had  hurried  back  home.  Upon  my 
finding  fault  with  him  for  making  such  seeming  selfish 
uses  of  our  country's  resources,  he  grinned  rather  sheep- 
ishly, but  answered  that  he  thought  we  had  the  best  end 
of  the  bargain,  since  the  few  who  had  come  back  and  the 
money  sent  home  in  gifts,  or  otherwise,  could  not  begin 
to  compare  in  value  with  the  youth  and  strength  of  the 
nation  that  had  left  their  own  and  embarked  for  foreign 
shores.  And  this,  when  one  thinks  of  it,  is  very  true, 
as  already  remarked ;  for  how  would  the  wealth  of  our 
fair  country  have  been  possible  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
advent  of  these  sturdy  comers  who  promptly  took  hold 
and  steadfastly  appied  themselves,  thereby  producing  it? 
It  had  never  before  been  so  forcibly  impressed  upon  me 
what  our  nation  owes  to  these  splendid  immigrants  from 
the  North  as  when  the  truth  was  spoken  by  the  old  miller. 
He  told  me  that  of  the  comparatively  few  with  capital 
who  came  back  with  the  avowed  intention  of  settling 
down,  only  a  small  proportion  really  made  up  their  minds 
to  do  so,  but  these  almost  invariably  made  model  farmers, 
becoming  object  lessons  in  thrift  and  progressiveness  in 
their  respective  neighborhoods.  He  had  noticed  that  the 
majority  of  those  who  returned  for  visits  or  otherwise 
loved  to  linger  two  or  three  months  among  former  friends 
and  old  associates  when,  suddenly,  they  would  grow 
restless,  the  new-world-spirit  awoke  and  lived  anew,  and 
off  they  would  go  to  their  prairie  homes  in  the  West. 
The  friendly  old  miller  escorted  me  to  the  neighbor- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  243 

ing  Haraldeidsvaag,  where  he  guaranteed  me  a  stopping- 
place  with  his  brother,  who  conducted  a  little  country 
store  and  inn  at  this  place.  There  were  scarcely  any 
other  buildings,  but  it  sufficed  for  the  wants  of  the  rural 
population  who  might  purchase  sufficient  for  their  mod- 
est needs,  get  their  mail  and  when  desired,  meet  the 
steamer  that,  twice  a  week,  noisily  nosed  its  way  into  the 
narrow  alcove  (vaag)  fashioned  so  extraordinarily  be- 
tween the  hills.  The  proprietor  was  an  intelligent  man 
and  posted  me  on  the  news  of  the  neighborhood  and  the 
country  at  large.  It  was  here  particularly  that  my  at- 
tention was  drawn  to  the  fact  that  the  newspapers  of 
Norway  contain  far  less  reading  matter  than  ours,  but 
more  succinct,  reliable  information,  enabling  a  man  to 
master  their  contents  quickly  and  thus  gain  time  for  the 
reading  of  instructive  books.  Hence  one  does  not  find 
the  usual  excessive  newspaper-reading  in  Norway,  but, 
if  anything,  too  much  indulgence  in  the  reading  of  ques- 
tionable fiction,  of  which  there  has  been  a  veritable  flood 
in  the  last  decade  or  two.  Even  the  rural  population  has 
been  slightly  smitten,  but  among  serious,  thinking  people 
I  found  that  such  reading  matter  invariably  stood  in  high 
disfavor. 

The  next  morning  after  having  eaten  four  kinds  of 
Norwegian  bread  and  reduced  the  hotel  milk  supply  very 
considerably,  I  came  away  with  just  forty  cents  less  than 
I  had  possessed  the  day  before.  The  good  people  were 
almost  ashamed  to  charge  so  much!  Under  no  circum- 
stances would  they  accept  more. 

The  road  to  Skjold  was  remarkable  for  nothing  in 
particular  except  the  many  gates  that  barred  the  road- 
way, and  the  vast  stretches  of  heather  that  in  so  many 
places  ran  parallel  with  it.  If  the  stones  were  removed 


244  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

and  made  into  durable  fences,  the  heather  burned  and 
the  soil  fertilized  and  cultivated,  such  land  would  yield 
rich  returns  and  would  be  a  benefit  to  the  individual,  the 
community,  and  the  commonwealth.  But  the  people  are, 
as  a  rule  rather  backward  in  reclaiming  this  land,  and, 
when  urged  to  go  at  it,  offer  generally  the  time-honored 
excuse  of  their  being  too  busy  making  both  ends  meet 
on  the  land  they  already  have,  to  engage  in  a  work  en- 
tailing so  much  labor  and  expense  and  yielding  so  tardy 
returns.  Though  considerable  public  aid  in  reclaiming 
waste  land  has  been  given,  the  government  would  do  well 
to  lend  a  further  helping  hand  here.  I  must  have  opened 
and  shut  that  day  a  couple  of  dozen  gates,  built  directly 
across  the  roadway  to  mark  the  dividing  line  between 
different  estates.  Though  the  roads  are  splendid,  I 
imagine  that  American  automobile  scorchers  would  have 
a  miserable  time  of  it  here. 

I  passed  by  the  small  trading  places,  Isvik  and 
Skjoldevik,  at  one  of  which  was  a  creamery,  where  J 
was  told  that  the  making  of  cream  was  growing  in  favor, 
finding  a  ready  market,  with  a  corresponding  rise  in  the 
price  of  butter,  which  was  hence  too  dear  to  be  eaten  by 
the  producer  and  therefore  largely  replaced  by  oleo- 
margarine. 

The  scenery  continued  somewhat  tame  and  uninter- 
esting till  I  reached  Vats,  where  nature  had  made  an  at- 
tempt at  elaboration,  though  on  a  very  modest  scale. 
The  extensive  swamps  and  peat  bogs  were  no  doubt  valu- 
able, in  a  way,  and  supplied  a  certain  variety,  but  added 
no  picturesqueness  to  the  landscape.  Although  the 
swamps  with  their  peat-beds  have  their  worth,  it  would 
seem  to  me  wise  for  the  government  to  encourage  drain- 
age even  more  than  at  present.  It  would,  no  doubt,  be 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY 


Photo  by  Wilse,  Kristiania. 
Hospitable  Cow.     Pastured  during  summer  at  the  saeter. 


246  WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY 

cheaper  in  the  end  to  import  fuel  than  food.  Not  only 
peat  but  various  minerals  closely  akin  to  radium,  and  — 
if  I  am  not  misinformed  —  even  radium  itself,  are 
found  at  Vats,  and  no  less  an  authority  than  Sir  William 
Ramsay,  the  world-famous  scientist,  has  been  there  to 
prove  it.  Hitherto  it  has  appeared  in  such  minute  quan- 
tities that  excavating  operations  have  been  carried  on 
chiefly  as  experiments. 

At  noon  I  stepped  into  a  wayside  blacksmith  shop 
to  ask  questions  about  the  road  and  make  enquiries  for 
a  friend  of  mine  from  America  who  originally  hailed 
from  here,  and  who  was  now  back  home  on  one  of  his 
biennial  visits  to  friends  in  dear  old  Vats.  The  in- 
formation was  readily  obtained  but  the  giver  of  it  proved 
both  talkative  and  hospitable,  seemed  loth  to  have  me 
resume  my  journey  just  then,  and  held  out  dinner  as 
a  pretext  to  delay  me.  Being  in  the  mood  to  dine  after 
my  long  walk,  I  did  not  refuse  his  kind  invitation,  but 
followed  at  his  heels  to  the  house,  to  the  consternation 
of  his  wife  who  felt  unequal  to  the  task  of  furnishing 
proper  entertainment  for  the  august,  bespectacled  visitor. 
I  always  feel  like  an  interloper  when  by  such  chance 
as  this  a  hungry  crowd  of  children  and  even  "ma"  her- 
self, deem  it  incumbent  on  them  to  suppress  their  long- 
ings and  stand  around  and  wait  while  the  intruder  and 
"pa"  feast  and  they  suffer.  A  most  agreeable  host  was 
this  blacksmith,  and  well  posted  was  he  on  affairs  of 
state  as  well  as  keenly  interested  in  community  doings. 
Will  ever  the  glorious  day  dawn  when  representatives 
such  as  this  will  be  picked  according  to  worth  and  placed 
in  positions  of  trust,  by  the  state  and  the  community,  to 
the  eternal  dismay  of  the  selfish,  loud-mouthed  office- 
seeker?  Although  our  talk  was  most  interesting,  my 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  247 

host  suddenly  bethought  himself  of  his  nap,  and  as 
nothing  could  be  allowed  to  interrupt  this,  he  stretched 
himself  full-length  on  a  hard  couch  and  almost  instantly 
fell  asleep.  I  had  been  induced  to  lie  down  on  the  best 
bed,  but  lay  as  wide-awake  as  ever,  listening  to  the  tick- 
tock  of  the  old  clock,  and  a  subdued  hum  issuing  from 
the  kitchen,  where  the  rest  of  the  family  were  eating 
what  we  had  left. 

My  American  friend  was  superintending  the  work  at  a 
small  stone  quarry  at  01en,  a  few  miles  farther  on ;  and 
thither  I  now  bent  my  steps,  rested  and  rejuvenated  after 
my  halt  at  the  home  of  the  good  blacksmith.  The  road 
continued  perfect  as  well  as  the  weather.  I  chanced 
upon  a  solitary  oak  by  the  roadside,  but  after  that  saw 
few  large  trees  of  any  kind.  Some  shrubbery  grew  near 
the  brooks  and  a  few  scattering  firs  graced  the  moun- 
tain side.  The  farmyards  were  neat,  the  houses  attract- 
ive, and  the  persons  I  met  happy  and  healthy-looking.  I 
ran  across  a  wee,  small  lad  with  a  bent  pin  for  a  fish- 
hook and  no  bait,  fishing  most  industriously  in  a  singing 
brook  where  there  were  no  fish  at  all.  He  had  great 
expectations,  being  nowise  cast  down  and  pinning  his 
faith  on  the  unseen.  His  eyes  shone  with  excitement 
when  he  confided  to  me  his  great  fishing  plans  for  the 
future.  It  was  no  more  ridiculous  than  when  English 
Lords  buy  up  whole  rivers  here  and,  with  cart  loads 
of  rod  and  tackle,  sit  solitary  guard  over  their  property 
with  scarcely  a  nibble  as  a  reward.  I  met  a  red-cheeked 
old  woman  with  a  market  basket  under  her  arm  who  said 
she  lived  all  alone  and  was  very  poor,  but  found  solace 
and  happiness  in  words  such  as  these :  "The  Lord  is  my 
shepherd,  I  shall  not  want."  Her  only  son  was  a  teacher 
in  Christiania,  and  her  great  concern  was  lest  he  should 


248  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

be  turned  from  the  faith  of  his  childhood  and  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  run  after  the  doctrines  of  men,  contrary 
to  the  Word.  She  had  heard  much  of  these  self -consti- 
tuted Bible  censors,  and  trembled  for  the  spiritual  safety 
of  her  son  and  others.  She  could  do  nothing  but  pray, 
she  said.  If  all  could  do  as  much,  this  world  would  be 
near  heaven. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
Qlen.     Etne.     Fjellberg 

TCAME  into  the  district  of  01en  towards  evening, 
reaching  the  end  of  a  tiny  fjord  pointing  its  finger 
into  the  very  heart  of  a  pretty,  quite  densely  popu- 
lated valley,  and  making  a  view  well  worth  seeing  as  the 
latest  rays  of  the  setting  sun  bathed  the  landscape  in 
gold.  At  the  trading  place  I  heard  of  my  friend's  where- 
abouts, and  started  immediately  to  climb  the  incline  that 
led  to  the  quarry.  His  charges  consisted  of  men,  women 
and  children,  who  were  at  present  re-assorting  the  quartz 
from  which  already  the  best  pieces  had  been  picked. 
The  cost  of  transportation  stood  in  the  way  of  higher 
earnings  for  any  of  the  parties  concerned ;  hence  quarry- 
ing operations  very  frequently  languished.  The  product 
when  shipped  and  upon  reaching  the  refinery  or  manu- 
factory, is  ground  and  variously  prepared  and  finally 
made  into  door-knobs,  telegraph-line  appurtenances,  and 
other  similar  articles.  My  friend  liked  to  go  prospect- 
ing in  the  mountains,  scrambling  from  hill  to  hill  in 
quest  of  promising  spots,  and  he  would  spend  hours  in 
painstaking  search  of  the  supposedly  hidden  treasures 
sure  to  exist  somewhere  and  but  waiting  to  be  found. 
Like  any  other  enthusiast  whose  chief  reward  is  his  love 
of  the  work,  his  interest  never  waned  whether  he  met 
with  gain  or  loss  through  his  search.  To  the  commercial 
type  such  apparently  aimless  delving  would  be  madden- 
ing, yet  such  are  the  very  ones  that  pounce  like  birds 
of  prey  upon  their  victim  when  through  endless  pains- 

(249) 


25O  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

taking  endeavor,   treasure   is  finally  uncovered,  leaving 
often  the  poor  discoverer  to  bewail  his  very  success. 

The  walk  next  morning  along  the  placid  fjord  past 
01en  village,  and  then  up  the  incline  leading  over  the 
mountains  to  Etne,  supplied  me  with  numberless  thrills 
of  joyous  pleasure  as  each  separate  attraction  made  its 
best  bow,  showing  forth  its  particular  prettiness  or  other 
remarkable  feature.  Especially  is  the  view  from  the 
heights  looking  back  over  01en,  with  its  picturesque 
surroundings  of  fjord  and  mountain,  unusually  fine. 
Equally  interesting  was  the  view  that  unrolled  itself 
before  my  gaze  on  the  opposite  side  as  I  entered  the 
district  of  Etne.  After  another  long  walk  I  arrived  at 
the  outskirts  of  the  populated  parts  in  the  valley  below, 
and  upon  reaching  a  place  where  a  family  was  at  work 
near  the  roadside  I  made  immediate  enquiry  for  0stb0, 
the  ancestral  home  of  my  own  and  my  brothers'  boy- 
hood's companions,  to  visit  which  had  been  the  main 
object  of  my  coming  to  Etne.  It  was  an  officer  in  the 
army  I  happened  to  address,  who  was  at  home  with  his 
family  on  a  prolonged  furlough,  and  who,  disliking  to 
be  unoccupied,  considered  himself  not  above  ordinary 
manual  labor.  He  was  so  well  pleased  with  my  notion 
of  hunting  up  the  old  homestead  in  question  that  he 
insisted  on  having  the  honor  reflect  on  him,  also,  as  a 
mere  resident  of  the  district.  That  the  second  genera- 
tion in-  a  foreign  country  should  become  imbued  with 
feelings  and  impulses  impelling  them  to  hie  back  to 
the  cradle  of  their  fathers  in  this  manner,  quickened 
and  warmed  his  heart,  he  said,  and  from  such  intercourse 
would  assuredly  spring  continued  interest  and  devotion 
that  would  unite  the  countries  in  bonds. of  unity  for  a 


WALKING  TRIPS  IN  NORWAY  251 

long  time  to  come.  He  was  a  serious-minded  man  and 
deeply  attached  to  his  people  and  country,  yet  he  could 
not  remain  silent,  even  before  me,  a  stranger,  regarding 
the  flippant,  worldly  tone  that  was  at  present  rapidly 
permeating  particularly  the  so-called  upper  class  of  the 
commonwealth,  higher  society  in  the  army  included.  The 
Word,  which  alone  can  give  sufficiency,  was  attacked  and 
criticized  by  wiseacres  in  many  quarters,  and,  considered 
as  a  perfect  authority,  found  many  dubious  listeners 
even  among  those  who  deemed  it  worth  while  to  offer 
it  a  serious  hearing.  The  younger  element  were  largely 
indifferent.  Though  there  was  ample  opportunity  to  hear 
the  old  faith  expounded  in  the  greater  number  of 
churches,  attendance  often  languished  and  Sunday  amuse- 
ments, attractions  and  distractions  were  growing  in  favor. 
He  spoke  with  concern,  for  he  knew  that  too  much 
worldliness  augurs  ill  for  the  well-being  of  a  nation.  It 
was  his  fervent  hope  that  the  country  people  and  so- 
called  lower  classes  would  not  be  too  deeply  influenced, 
but  would  remain  faithful  and  true,  unaffected  by  the 
doubting,  indifference  and  frivolty  of  the  day. 

So  interesting  did  our  talk  become  that  I  nearly 
forgot  why  I  had  come,  and  upon  casually  glancing  at 
my  watch  I  was  startled  into  sudden  realization  of  the 
certain,  unerring  flight  of  time,  and  the  number  of  miles 
I  had  intended  to  cover  before  night.  There  are  two 
0steb0s  in  Etne,  quite  far  apart  from  each  other,  and 
though  I  stood  nigh  the  threshold  of  one,  it  was,  per- 
versely enough,  the  place  I  did  not  want;  so  on  I 
trudged  in  the  direction  designated  by  the  army  man 
toward  the  far-away  0steb0  (east  meadow)  I  was  look- 
ing for.  I  halted  an  hour  for  dinner  at  Etnesj0n,  a 


cluster  of  houses  forming  the  village  at  the  end  of  the 
pretty  fjord  that  had  elbowed  its  way  in  between  the 
mountains  and  provided  a  passage  for  steamers. 

It  was  delightful  to  walk  along  the  pretty,  well-kept 
lanes  leading  mountain-wards,  taking  their  limit  of 
liberties  in  odd  twists  and  turns,  as  I  headed,  completely 
turned  around  as  to  directions,  towards  my  destination. 
Etne  exhibits  its  pride,  baring  its  main  body  in  open, 
fairly  level  stretches  near  the  sea,  but  it  sends  also  two 
large  feelers  in  the  form  of  pretty  valleys  into  the  moun- 
tains from  whence  in  return,  gush  two  tumbling  rivers 
that  find  repose  only  upon  reaching  the  quiet  fjord  be- 
low. As  I  was  nearing  the  mouth  of  the  east  valley, 
whither  I  was  bound,  I  turned  and  was  treated  to  a 
most  enchanting  view,  and  one  well  worth  coming  far 
to  see.  No  one  had  told  me  that  I  might  expect  to  find 
any  thing  particularly  interesting  in  this  part  of  Norway ; 
hence  such  a  discovery  was  the  more  delightful. 

Just  before  entering  the  valley  I  passed  by  pretty 
Grindheim  perched  on  its  hill  some  distance  away  from 
the  roadside,  a  name  thoroughly  familiar  to  me  since 
childhood,  because  our  near  and  very  kind  neighbor, 
Lars,  an  early  Iowa  pioneer,  had  come  from  there.  I 
met  a  young  man  to  whom  I  spoke  of  the  material  pros- 
perity and  success  of  the  early  emigrants,  many  having 
come  from  this  very  vicinity,  and  he  appeared  to  look 
upon  it  as  a  most  wonderful  provision;  for,  try  as  he 
might,  he  could  not  see  how  so  many  people  could  have 
made  out  to  find  bread  at  home  had  there  been  no 
America  to  go  to.  He  found  it  hard  enough,  even  now, 
to  support  his  little  family,  and  many  of  his  neighbors 
were  in  like  case.  There  were  no  abandoned  farms  and 
no  carelessly-cultivated  tracts,  so  far  as  he  knew.  Condi- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  253 

tions  were  not  bad,  yet  he  deplored  the  passing  of  the 
old-time  economy  and  the  consequent  shrinkage  in  sav- 
ings, though  the  incomes  were  really  greater  than  of 
yore.  Not  all  the  farmers  owned  farms,  but  many  oc- 
cupied rented  places  or  held  equities  or  options  therein 
some  being  helped  to  establish  homes  thus  through  cheap 
government  loans.  A  desire  for  finer  clothes,  and  for 
food  other  than  that  raised  on  the  farm,  and  in  some 
instances  dislike  for  hard  work,  were  mainly  the  causes 
of  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  affairs.  He  also  spoke  of 
the  decay  of  religious  interest  and  activity  particularly 
among  the  upper  classes,  and  had  already  noticed  that 
the  leaven  of  corruption  had  slightly  permeated  the  coun- 
try schools  through  teachers  who  had  become  infused 
with  the  modern  spirit.  He  feared  that  without  religion 
in  the  schools  the  very  props  and  foundations  of  en- 
lightened society  and  good  government  were  threatened, 
and  that  the  nation,  in  such  an  event,  would  rapidly 
decline. 

Threading  the  narrow,  crooked  valley,  1  enjoyed  the 
prospect  of  quite  an  abundance  of  trees,  though  rarely 
of  dense  growth,  and  invariably  rather  small  of  size. 
These  climbed  the  mountains  quite  bravely,  but  this  was 
not  so  very  remarkable,  since  there  were  no  great  heights 
in  this  region.  Snow  caps  were  discernible  farther  down 
the  valley,  showing  through  the  haze  about  Winger.  It 
was  a  beautiful  sight.  A  pretty  little  lake  had  ensconced 
itself  in  the  midst  of  this  rich  setting,  enhancing  very 
much  the  scenic  attractions  of  this  wing  of  Etne.  Bor- 
dering on  the  lake  were  several  pretty  gaards  such  as 
Gr0nstad,  Hovland,  Rame  and  Sheldall.  I  looked  at  them 
all  with  genuine  interest,  for  from  each  I  knew  several 
in  America  who  had  once  called  them  home,  yes,  and 


254  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

even  after  the  lapse  of  many  years  spoke  of  them  as  such. 
But  the  place  that  was  interesting  above  all  others  was 
the  last  gaard  in  this  particular  group,  and  it  was  also 
perhaps  the  least  pretentious,  this  0stb$zf,  this  place  of  so 
many  associations,  this  spot  I  had  tramped  so  many 
hours  to  reach. 

The  little  house  sat  on  a  bare  slope  bravely  facing 
the  roadside  which  ran  in  sinuous  curves  hither  and  yon 
in  deference  to  the  freaks  and  contortions  of  the  valley, 
conforming  thus  by  virtue  of  the  latter  being  here  first. 
The  dwelling  was  clapboarded  but  unpainted,  yet  carried 
proudly  on  its  roof  pretty  red  tiles  that  needed  no  apol- 
ogy, being  as  nice  as  any,  even  in  the  cities.  There  was 
a  window  or  two  that  looked  out  upon  the  road,  but  the 
door  was  on  the  back  side  and  led  into  an  ante-room 
where  the  visitors  might  make  polite  and  proper  prepara- 
tion before  entering  the  main,  inner-room.  Entering, 
finally,  this  inner  home  sanctuary,  there  was  revealed  to 
me  a  large  family  seated  around  an  uncovered  table  en- 
joying scraps  of  fish  and  plenty  of  boiled  potatoes 
served  with  their  jackets  on.  All  seemed  to  have  good 
appetites,  for  there  were  big  piles  of  potato  skins  orna- 
menting each  plate.  At  my  entrance  all  arose  as  if  with 
one  accord,  and  retired  modestly  into  various  corners, 
leaving  me  sole  possessor  of  the  center  of  the  room  near 
the  table  and  the  not  altogether  inviting  remnants  of 
the  feast.  The  lady  of  the  house  soon  recovered  herself, 
attacked  the  table,  bustling  energetically  about,  and, 
presto!  there  stood  the  table  in  a  corner  with  a  white 
cover  and  heaped  with  bread  and  cheese,  and  coffee  for 
two.  This  was  an  honor  meant  for  me,  and  the  good 
man  of  the  house  offered  an  apology  for  presuming  to  sit 
by  and  keep  me  company. 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  255 

The  man  and  his  wife  were  from  Skaanevik  and 
Winger  respectively,  having  rented  the  farm  and  knowing 
but  little  regarding  those  who  had  preceded  them.  They 
knew,  however,  that  thereabouts  were  left  only  one  or 
two  survivors  of  the  family  that  had  here  had  its  origin 
and  had  since  grown  numerous  and  strong  in  a  foreign 
land.  It  sounded  to  them  like  a  fairy  tale  when  I  told  of 
the  three  sons,  Torkel,  Lars  and  Osmund,  and  their 
sister,  who  had  come  to  America  nearly  seventy  years  ago, 
and  whose  progeny  were  in  the  hundreds,  and  whose 
combined  possessions  would  exceed  the  value  of  the  old 
homestead  ten  thousand  times.  I  do  not  distinctly  re- 
member whether  I  voiced  the  thought  or  not,  but  it 
occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  fine  idea  for  all  these 
0stb0  descendants  in  America  to  buy  the  old  gaard  of 
their  forefathers,  repair  it  and  keep  it  intact  for  genera- 
tions to  come.  A  tenant  could  no  doubt  be  easily  secured 
to  care  for  the  place.  It  would  be  setting  a  fine  example 
to  other  descendants  of  like  ability,  and,  when  one  thinks 
of  it,  our  Follinglo  in  Valdres  and  the  old  homestead  at 
Tjernagel  would  appreciate  just  such  attention. 

What  a  contrast  to  the  spacious  comfortable  homes 
among  our  neighbors  in  America  did  not  this  little  eight- 
een by  twenty-four  structure  present  as  it  stood  there 
bare  of  ornament  and  conveniences  inside  and  out,  and 
occupied  to  its  utmost  capacity.  But  even  here  I  found 
happiness,  the  common  desire  of  mankind,  proving  that 
nowhere,  not  even  in  America,  may  we  boast  of  a  mon- 
opoly of  it.  If  I  mistake  not  it  was  on  this  trip  that  I 
found  a  man  who  considered  himself  lucky  that  he  had 
not  become  a  greedy,  money-grabbing  American  like  so 
many  of  his  childhood  companions.  He  was  satisfied 
with  what  the  Giver  of  All  Things  had  bestowed  right 


256  WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

here,  and  though  he  had  but  little  of  this  world's  goods, 
he  hoped  he  should  have  enough,  and  why  should  he  sigh 
for  the  conquest  of  what  in  itself  gave  no  contentment 
and  often  greatly  troubled  the  spirit?  "What  shall  it 
profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose 
his  own  soul  ?"  I  tried  to  make  him  understand  that  the 
American  is  not  always  so  greedy  for  the  dollar  itself 
as  for  the  power  it  stands  for,  and  that  we  are  not  a 
nation  of  miserly  hoarders,  but  very  often  generous  with 
our  means  where  there  is  a  worthy  cause  in  need  of  aid. 
For  instance :  though  the  Norwegians  in  America  are 
not  nearly  equal  to  the  population  of  Norway  itself,  they 
have  nearly  twice  as  many  churches  and  schools  as  there 
are  in  Norway.  This  was  a  surprise  to  him,  but  he  would 
have  me  understand  that  "love  of  power  and  honor  is 
pretty  nearly  equally  yoked  with  greed,  the  former  being 
rather  worse  than  the  latter.  Only  when  we  look  away 
from  ourselves  and  render  really  unselfish  service  be- 
fore God  and  our  fellows,  then,  and  only  then,  are  our 
efforts  apt  to  be  genuinely  good."  It  occurs  to  me  to 
mention  it  here  that  among  certain  classes  of  Norwegians, 
chiefly  in  the  cities,  I  found  not  a  few  who  were  as  eager 
after  crowns  as  the  American  is  after  dollars,  though 
not  to  gather  them  and  wax  strong,  but  to  spend  them  as 
soon  as  earned. 

Outside  the  house  I  found  a  dilapidated  little  struc- 
ture that  in  Lars'  and  Torkel's  childhood  days  had  served 
as  a  "stabur"  (store  room),  but  stood  now  on  extremely 
rickety  legs,  feebly  remontrating  against  time,  loth  to 
crumble,  yet  doomed  sooner  or  later  to  come  down.  An 
old  barn  cellar  yawned  up  at  me  as  I  proceeded,  telling 
its  story  of  a  hundred  years  and  reminding  one  of  needs 
and  deeds  of  long  forgotten  days.  Being  a  prairie- 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  257 

dweller,  nurtured  on  freshly  turned  virgin  soil  and  un- 
used to  anything  but  the  new,  these  spectres  from  the 
past  startled  me  and  even  seemed  to  pursue  me  as  I 
hastened  back  to  my  lodging-place.  On  the  return  I  took 
the  old  St01e  road  which  was  even  more  picturesque  than 
the  first.  Entesmoen,  a  drill-ground  for  the  local  army 
corps,  lay  bare,  deserted  and  uninviting  on  the  left  —  it 
was  remarkably  level  for  Etne  —  but  further  along  there 
were  pretty  slopes,  fine  farmyards  and  lovely,  tree- 
shaded  lanes.  A  church  rose  out  of  the  gloom,  and  on 
nearer  approach  several  dozen  green  graves,  all  beauti- 
fully kept,  were  to  be  seen  through  the  surrounding 
hedge.  The  names  of  those  buried  there  were,  no  doubt, 
forgotten,  as  there  were  no  crosses  or  stones  to  preserve 
them. 

Once  well  past  the  grave-yard  and  entered  upon  a 
darkened  lane,  pretty  enough  in  the  daytime  but  rather 
gloomy  at  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  there  rose  sud- 
denly before  me  a  veritable  spectre,  a  mountain  hob- 
goblin of  the  worst  type,  appearing  in  the  guise  of  an  im- 
mense hog,  and  launching  itself  without  warning  from 
out  the  gloom  right  into  the  middle  of  the  road.  If  it 
had  not  grunted  so  good-naturedly,  as  it  did,  I  should 
surely  have  been  scared ;  but  having  been  raised,  so  to 
speak,  among  thousands  of  its  kind  on  the  home  farm,  its 
well-known  voice  spoke  volumes  to  reassure  me,  coming 
as  we  did  thus  familiarly  face  to  face.  It  was  a  hog  in 
the  flesh,  after  all,  for  not  only  did  it  grunt,  but  there 
was  a  rope  tied  about  it  somewhere  that  led  along  till 
it  reached  a  human  hand,  connecting  with  a  higher  in- 
telligence, which  in  turn  steered  its  charge  from  place  to 
place,  from  "gaard"  to  "gaard."  Now  I  remembered 
having  heard  father  tell  that  Etne  was  quite  famous  as 
17* 


258  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

a  hog-producing  section,  and  that  it  not  only  raised 
enough  for  its  own  needs,  but  that  little  pigs  were  ped- 
dled about  in  surrounding  districts.  Thus  at  Tjernagel 
the  Etnesbu  hog-peddler  was  a  familiar  figure  and  would 
be  humorously  quoted  as  saying:  "Disse  grisongadne  a 
f  jorten  da'er  paa  trea  veko  aa  etc  net  ka  di  faar,  kar." 
(These  pigs  are  fourteen  days  going  on  the  third  week 
and  eat  just  exactly  anything  they  get,  sir.) 

My  hostess  was  just  on  the  point  of  locking  me  out 
when  I  appeared,  tired,  but  satisfied  and  hungry,  just  at 
the  bed-time  hour,  and  suggested  a  "spread."  She  smiled 
a  toothless  smile,  donned  her  jacket,  laid  away  the  baby 
and  cheerfully  fetched  what  she  had.  As  hunger  is  the 
best  sauce,  I  had  the  happiest  possible  time  of  it  par- 
taking of  the  simple  viands  set  before  me.  A  dry  crust 
tastes  like  manna  when  the  appetite  has  been  left  alone 
long  enough  to  grow  healthy  and  ripe. 

There  were  beds  enough  (there  were  six)  and  heavy 
blankets  of  hair  and  of  wool  in  my  room;  and  I  believe 
I  could  have  made  out  to  sleep  some  in  spite  of  my  late 
supper  and  my  long  walk  from  01en  to  0stb0  and 
Etnesjon,  but  there  were  rats  between  the  walls,  ceiling 
and  roof,  that  were  out  late  also  this  evening,  apparently 
emulating  my  example,  gnawed  away  on  any  old  thing, 
even  crunching  the  wood.  During  the  silent  midnight 
watches  their  incessant  comings  and  goings  reminded 
me  of  so  many  cavalry  charges,  and  when  they  fought, 
the  amount  of  noise  produced  was  unbelievable  and  well- 
nigh  unbearable.  But  as  a  traveler  of  some  experience,  I 
as  usual  quickly  tried  to  familiarize  myself  with  my  sur- 
roundings, listened  with  philosophic  calm,  and  gradually 
composed  myself  to  sleep  though  it  is  hard  to  woo  Mor- 
pheus when  there  are  such  bold  eavesdroppers  about. 


WALKING    TRIPS    IX    NORWAY 


259 


The  next  morning  it  rained,  but  as  I  had  learned 
by  now  not  particularly  to  mind  the  usual  Xorweigian 
drizzle,  I  started  out  confident  that  my  umbrella  would 


••• 


Drawing    by 
E.    Biorn. 


In  the  clutches 
of  the  ele- 
ments. 


keep  off  the 
m  o  i  s  t  u  r  >e 
from  above  and  my 
galoshes  protect  me 
from  it  below.  My  way 
skirted  the  very  brink  of 
the  sea,  where  for  many 

miles  the  wind  had  a  clean  sweep  and  flung  the 
spray  into  my  very  face,  adding  its  salty,  clammy 
moisture  to  that  of  the  rain,  which  now  and  then 
fell  in  a  respectable  shower  as  if  to  show  that  it 
could  thus  come  down  if  it  but  so  pleased.  It  was 


26O  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

actually  uncomfortable  at  times,  but  who  does  not  feel 
a  certain  exhilaration  in  thus  breasting  the  elements? 
I  missed  the  thunder  and  lightning  and  the  splendid- 
looking  array  of  swiftly  advancing  clouds  as  seen  during 
summer  rains  at  home,  but  the  mountains  and  the  rough- 
ened sea  provided  a  sort  of  substitute.  Dame  Nature 
assumes  a  different  aspect  when  no  one  is  supposed  to 
be  looking,  and  it  is  fun  to  venture  forth  on  a  day  like 
this  when  neither  man  nor  beast  cares  to  come  out,  and 
watch  how  she  slops  things  about.  She  chokes  the 
brooks  and  rivulets  with  her  downpourings  till  they  are 
completely  swollen,  making  them  overflow  into  the  road, 
the  paths,  everywhere.  She  peppers  the  sea  with  a  thou- 
sand tiny  missiles  till  it  looked  quite  dark  and  forbidding 
on  its  face.  When  it  is  in  this  condition,  to  contemplate 
it  makes  one  fairly  shudder.  The  wind  whips  caprici- 
ously about  as  if  defying  control,  the  sea  showing  black 
and  threatening  where  the  frenzied  gusts  strike  its  sur- 
face. Having  finished  taunting  the  sea,  they  bound 
unseen  into  the  air,  catching  wickedly  at  a  corner  of  my 
umbrella  as  they  dart  past,  turning  the  umbrella  inside- 
out  and  dashing  the  rain  into  my  face  and  down  my 
neck.  Though  it  is  quite  a  tussle  to  grapple  thus  with 
elemental  forces,  it  gives  healthy  zest  to  mind  and  body, 
quickens  the  pulse,  and  rouses  the  soul. 

Towards  noon,  after  the  storm  was  over  and  the 
sky  had  cleared,  a  little  house  timidly  peeped  forth  from 
a  corner  of  the  road,  it  being  the  first  to  venture  out  since 
morning,  none  other  having  shown  itself  along  the  way. 
Here  lived  two  old  people,  man  and  wife,  alone.  Their 
children  were  in  America,  but  they  scarcely  ever  wrote 
home.  The  good  old  souls  shed  tears  as  they  said  this ; 
they  were  so  very  lonesome,  and  thought  it  possibly  not 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  26 1 

asking  too  much  if  they  might,  once  in  a  great  while, 
hear  from  their  own.  No  doubt  they  were  doing  well, 
otherwise  they  would  assuredly  write,  they  thought. 
What  a  reproach !  What  did  not  these  well-meant, 
kindly  words  imply !  What  a  mountain  of  selfishness 
in  the  absent  ones  did  they  not  stand  for !  To  the  dear 
souls  who  had  given  them  life  and  love  and  their  best 
thought,  these  self-loving,  forgetful  wretches  would  only 
write  when  they  were  in  need !  A  noble  trait,  indeed ! 
What  if  the  old  folks  needed  them  —  needed  the  uplift 
of  a  cheering  letter  now  and  then?  Of  what  use  is  mate- 
rial success  if  it  robs  us  of  love  and  proper  thoughtful- 
ness  for  others  ?  They  asked  me  to  remind  their  children 
of  their  neglect,  which  I  promised  I  would  gladly  do,  not 
only  with  words,  but  also  I  came  near  saying,  with 
lashes. 

Having  rounded  the  point  of  Bjerkenes,  whither  my 
road  took  me,  there  appeared  in  the  dim  distance,  with 
a  wide  fjord  between,  Fjellberg,  the  birthplace  of  my 
grandmother  and  my  present  destination.  But  to  reach 
it  was  another  question,  for  though  the  storm  had  abated, 
the  sea  still  remained  quite  stirred  up  and  angry,  and 
it  might  not  be  wise  to  trust  it  to  carry  smaller  craft 
in  safety.  Enquiring  at  several  houses,!  found  none 
anxious  to  accommodate  me  with  boat-service.  Luckily 
the  sun  came  out  and  lulled  the  wind  to  sleep,  coaxing 
also  the  boisterous  waves  into  comparative  calm.  By 
this  time  I  had  reached  Torbj0rn  Nervig's  place.  He 
was  a  well  to  do  farmer  with  twenty-five  acres  of  good 
tillable  land  to  his  name,  a  very  sizable  farm  for  west- 
ern Norway;  in  fact,  the  largest  I  happened  to  come 
across  in  this  part  of  the  country,  many  possessing  but 
an  acre  or  two. 


262  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

Torbjjzfrn  was  working  in  the  grainfield,  but  hear- 
ing of  my  strong  desire  to  reach  Fjellberg  that  after- 
noon, stopped  short  in  the  midst  of  his  work  to  consider 
ways  and  means  of  getting  me  transported  across.  He 
did  not  seem  to  be  able  to  hit  upon  a  better  plan  than 
that  he  himself  should  do  it,  provided,  however,  that  his 
son  would  bear  him  company  and  help  with  the  rowing. 
The  -boy  would  rather  be  excused,  and  reminded  his 
father  of  their  trip  recently  taken  in  just  such  a  sea 
as  this,  when  they  had  capsized  with  this  very  boat  and 
dropped  the  pig  they  were  carrying  into  the  bottom  of 
the  sea,  while  they  themselves  had  been  thoroughly 
soused  in  the  brine  for  their  pains.  Torbj0rn  smiled  and 
said  their  passenger  this  time  was  no  pig  and  would  no 
doubt  wisely  sit  still,  which  their  former  charge  had 
not  done.  The  boy  was  an  obedient  son  and  offered  no 
further  protest;  the  grainfield  was  accordingly  forsaken, 
and  off  we  went  to  the  boat-house  to  prepare  for  the 
trip.  We  threw  in  plenty  of  oilskins,  an  extra  baling 
bucket,  calked  the  leaks,  and  so  pushed  off.  The  breeze 
again  slightly  stirring  'and  being  favorable,  the  boy 
spread  an  old  rag  for  a  sail,  which  increased  our  speed 
considerably,  without  requiring  a  particle  of  additional 
energy  as  far  as  we  were  concerned. 

Torbj0rn  was  talkative  and  told  me  about  various 
things,  of  which  the  new  mode  of  penning  up  schools  of 
mackerel  in  the  open  sea  interested  me  most.  Except  in 
the  lower  depths  the  fish  are  nowhere  safe  from  this 
cunning  contrivance  which  closes  so  unexpectedly  from 
below  upon  its  unsuspecting  victims.  As  they  fly  in 
sheer  terror  up  and  away  to  make  their  escape,  it  is 
only  to  strike  against  the  encircling  net  in  whatever  di- 
rection they  so  frantically  seek  egress.  They  are  com- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  263 

pletely  surrounded  except  where  the  water  meets  the  air, 
but  to  jump  into  this  forbidding  element  though  it  be 
but  for  the  distance  of  an  inch,  to  gain  their  freedom, 
never  occurs  to  the  poor  captives.  A  large  motorboat 
properly  supplied  with  nets  and  other  paraphernalia  hung 
like  a  hawk  over  the  deep  ready  to  cast  its  talons 
wherever  surface  indications  promised  a  possible  haul. 

We  were  rocked  comfortably  along  by  wind  and 
wave,  when,  suddenly,  there  came  a  disturbance.  The 
wind  was  roused  into  furious  activity,  which  made  the 
water  momentarily  roughen  and  take  on  a  dark,  threat- 
ening hue  as  if  it  would  fain  strike  back,  which  indeed 
it  did  after  it  had  got  its  bearings  in  the  new  direction 
it  was  now  forced  to  travel.  We  were  caught  in  the 
midst  of  the  turmoil,  and  of  the  two  combatants  the 
waves  bothered  us  the  most,  for,  their  current  being  thus 
suddenly  turned,  they  hopped  vengefully  up  into  the 
very  face  of  their  assailant  like  angry  pups.  Luckily 
we  were  approaching  a  protecting  ledge  of  land,  but  not 
before  we  had  shipped  considerable  water  and  I  had 
contemplated  as  in  a  nightmare  a  certain  pet  hog  that 
had  gone  overboard  somewhere  near  here.  I  got  a  good 
part  of  my  clothing  soused  in  the  brine,  but  otherwise 
we  were  in  excellent  condition  as  we  drew  up,  safe  and 
sound,  after  our  three-hour  trip,  at  the  Fjellberg  land- 
ing-place. 

Though  desirous  of  making  an  immediate  visit  at 
the  nearby  parsonage,  to  seek  information  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  possible  relatives,  I  could  not  seem  to 
be  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  leave  the  kind  people  who 
had  labored  to  bring  me  across.  I  wanted  to  consider 
the  subject  of  pay,  but  it  took  a  long  time  before  Tor- 
bj0rn  would  give  me  a  chance  to  broach  it.  He  skillfully 


264  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

steered  the  conversation  into  other  channels  for  nearly 
half  an  hour  before  he  allowed  me  to  lead  up  to  it. 
He  finally  admited  that  he  would  be  willing  to  receive 
seventy-five  cents  for  the  job,  which  sum  he  thought 
was  a  great  plenty.  It  was  exceedingly  small  wages  for 
so  much  service  and  such  considerable  sacrifice  in  leaving 
their  work.  They  seemed  most  interested  in  being  able 
to  help  the  stranger  through,  forgetting  to  be  concerned 
for  themselves. 

At  the  parsonage  I  found  the  young  minister's  wife 
and  her  little  son  at  home,  and  from  them  soon  learned 
that  among  their  nearest  neighbors  were  people  likely 
to  turn  out -to  be  such  as  I  sought.  That  I  might  obtain 
fuller  knowledge  she  gave  me  access  to  the  church 
records,  and  here  I  soon  discovered  an  array  of  names 
that  bore  evidence  of  our  having  a  numerous  kinship  in 
this  corner  of  the  world.  The  register  showed  the  names 
of  two  brothers  and  two  sisters,  brothers  and  sisters  of 
my  departed  grandmother,  and  of  whom  she  had  no 
doubt  often  told,  but  about  whom  all  had  forgotten  long 
since.  How  one  is  filled  with  awe  and  reverence  when 
turning  the  leaves  of  such  musty  documents,  perusing 
the  records  of  the  births,  christenings,  confirmations, 
marriages  and  deaths  of  those  who  lived  their  lives  when 
the  world  was  younger,  and  who  lived  so  that  we,  their 
descendants,  were  privileged  to  be  born,  wrought  in  their 
likeness,  formed  and  developed  into  individual  selves, 
and,  most  wonderful  of  all,  created  with  immortal  souls ! 

The  minister's  wife  suspecting  that  old  Torsten  at 
Havn  must  be  my  great-uncle  offered  to  accompany  me 
thither  to  introduce  me.  The  way  was  not  long  but 
very  crooked,  leading  us  a  merry  dance  to  note  and  fol- 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  265 

low  its  caprices  as  it  bore  hither  and  yon,  twixt  bush 
and  brier,  amid  rocks  and  rills,  over  bumps  and  hills, 
till  we  finally  arrived  breathless  and  spent  at  the  threshold 
of  Ole  Fjellberg's  house  in  Havn.  Ole  was  not  at  home, 
but  his  wife  and  daughter  were,  and  to  these  my  kind 
companion  introduced  me,  asking  in  the  same  breath 
how  father  fared  today.  We  were  told  that  he  remained 
in  bed  continually,  yet  not.  so  much  from  actual  sickness 
as  from  the  weakening  weight  of  years,  furthered  also 
by  increasing  deafness  and  failing  eyesight. 

Like  a  great  many  other  old  people  I  have  met,  the 
old  gentleman  was  vastly  curious  to  know  why  I  had 
come  and  all  about  me,  which  I  felt  was  most  uninterest- 
ing compared  with  the  story  I  expected  to  hear  from 
him.  When  I  finally  made  mention  of  grandmother  and 
of  her  childhood's  home  here  at  Fjellberg,  there  ensued 
a  silence,  for  I  could  do  nothing  but  hold  my  breath, 
while  he  peered  anxiously  and  questioningly  at  me 
through  time-dimmed  eyes.  I  had  to  shout  loud  and 
long  her  name,  over  and  over  again,  for  he  wanted  to 
be  fully  convinced  that  what  I  had  said  really  corre- 
sponded with  the  unbelievable  thing  caught  by  his  ears. 
He  looked  dubious  in  spite  of  all  my  loudly  repeated 
declarations;  for,  said  he,  "I  never  heard  my  youngest 
sister  at  Stavanger  tell  of  having  a  grandson  in  America." 
It  was  now  my  turn  to  be  surprised,  and  I  queried : 
"Have  you  then  a  younger  sister  by  the  same  name? 
Grandmother  would  now  have  been  over  ninety  had  she 
lived."  The  scales  suddenly  fell  from  his  eyes,  and  he 
now  realized  that  he  saw  before  him  a  descendant  of 
his  oldest  sister  who,  as  he  explained,  was  two  years 
older  than  he,  had  left  the  parental  home  at  an  early 


266  WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

age  to  hire  out,  and  had  drifted  from  place  to  place 
till  lost  track  of  at  home,  finally  passing  out  of  their 
minds  altogether. 

As  with  Kari  and  Marit  and  other  old  people  I 
met,  I  learned  that  letter-writing  was  rarely  indulged  in 
among  the  country  people  sixty  and  seventy  years  ago, 
messages  and  greetings  being  sent  by  word  of  mouth, 
through  the  chance  comings  and  goings  of  relatives  or 
friends.  Fjellberg  seemed  a  world  removed  from 
Avaldsnes  in  the  day  of  sailboats  and  overland  journeys ; 
hence  communication  lagged  and  finally  came  to  a  stand- 
still. Such,  at  least,  was  the  case  with  grandmother  and 
the  home  folks. 

Old  Torsten  had  not  heard  of  this  sister  for  sixty 
years.  So  eager  was  his  desire  to  learn  all  that  his  old 
pale  cheeks  took  on  spots  of  red,  proclaiming  the  inner 
tumult  of  aroused  remembrance  and  thought.  He  told 
of  their  childhood,  but  further  than  this  he  could  not 
go,  and  entreated  me  to  tell  more,  which  I  did  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  but  the  relation  of  which  does  not  properly 
come  within  the  scope  of  this  narrative. 

A  bevy  of  far-removed  cousins  sat  sewing  in  an  ad- 
joining room,  and  to  them  came  the  reverberations  of  my 
voice,  while  that  of  the  old  man,  as  with  all  deaf  people, 
came  forth  scarcely  audible  even  to  me.  My  Norwegian- 
American  dialect,  togther  with  the  powerful  stress  laid 
on  each  word,  and  the  one-sided,  telephone  fashion  of 
the  conversation  as  caught  by  the  listeners,  produced  an 
uncommon  effect,  which,  no  doubt,  was  responsible  for 
the  salvos  of  smothered  giggles  that,  ever  and  anon,  be- 
trayed the  situation  among  my  highly  esteemed  cousins  in 
the  sewing-room.  I  soon  came  to  wish  most  heartily  that 
the  ordeal  might  soon  be  over,  but  old  Torsten  knew 


WALKING   TRIPS    IN    NORWAY  267 

nothing  about  this  and  kept  me  shouting  as  long  as  I  had 
any  voice  left.  I  finally  succeeded  in  tearing  myself 
away,  but  could  scarcely  bring  my  voice  back  to  normal 
again,  and  so  awoke  anew  the  mirth  of  those  fond  cousins 
whom  I  had,  even  now,  set  out  soberly  to  entertain. 

I  'left  the  old  man  with  a  pleased  look  on  his  face 
which  was  a  reward  well  worth  coming  a  long  way  to 
earn,  and  to  store  permanently  away.  He  was  bed-ridden 
and,  in  consequence  of  his  failing  senses,  nearly  shut  off 
from  the  world ;  and  so  I  count  it  as  one  of  the  few  great 
privileges  that  have  come  to  me  that  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  bringing  some  cheer  into  the  inner  sanctuary  of  his 
well-nigh  isolated  soul.  He  confided  to  me  that  this 
world  never  gives  contentment  to  the  very  old,  nor  to 
the  young,  for  he  had  tried  it,  both  in  youth  and  age, 
and  though  he  lived  mostly  in  retrospection  and  found 
considerable  interest  in  thus  living  life  over  again,  his 
eyes  shone  with  unquenchable  homesickness  as  he  spoke 
of  the  Haven  of  Peace  whither,  with  God's  promise 
as  a  compass,  he  had  set  sail,  and  toward  which  he  now 
felt  himself  happily  drifting. 

Ole,  the  son,  came  home  from  his  carpenter  work 
in  the  dusk,  in  time  for  the  evening  meal.  When  I 
introduced  myself  as  a  son  of  his  American  cousin,  he 
told  me  very  frankly  that  he  was  not  in  the  least  aware 
of  having  either  cousins  or  sons  of  cousins  in  America, 
Canada,  or  anywhere  else  but  Norway.  I  convinced  him, 
however,  that  I  was  speaking  the  truth,  for  with  the  liv- 
ing identical  specimen  before  him,  who  could  fully  prove 
his  assertions,  it  would  have  been  vain  to  argue.  His 
welcome  became  most  hearty,  and  the  house  with  all  it 
contained  seemed  to  exist  solely  for  my  convenience  and 
pleasure. 


268  WALKIXG    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 

Ole  told  me  that  I  had  dropped  right  into  a  nest 
of  relatives  in  this  region,  and  that  I  could  scarcely  move 
in  any  direction  without  encountering  some  of  them. 
Grandmother's  two  brothers  and  two  sisters  had  all  mar- 
ried, and  all  had  had  children ;  and  now  the  children's 
children  were  numbered  in  the  hundreds.  Most  of  them 
remained  in  the  vicinity,  though  a  few  had  moved  to  the 
cities,  such  as  the  Axdals  in  Stavanger  and  the  Eliasons, 
Fjellbergs  and  Axdals  in  Bergen. 

To  come  thus  suddenly  upon  relatives  in  the  north- 
east corner  of  the  world,  without  being  sufficiently  pre- 
pared for  it,  was  quite  startling  and  tended  to  rob  me 
of  sleep  and  my  usual  serenity  of  mind.  The  discovery 
was  of  such  moment  that  I  have  deemed  it  not  improper 
to  make  record  of  it  here  as  an  example  showing  how 
easy  it  was  for  people  to  lose  track  of  one  another  before 
the  era  of  easy  communication  as  enjoyed  at  the  present 
day.  If  letter-writing  was  little  practised  at  home,  one 
might  not  expect  much  written  communication  from  for- 
eign countries  —  America,  for  instance,  whither  so  many 
had  gone  and  whence  the  postage  on  a  letter  often 
amounted  to  as  much  as  a  dollar.  Dollars  were  scarce 
in  those  days,  nor  were  pens,  ink,  and  paper  any  too 
plenty;  and  to  crown  it  all  came  the  disinclination  to 
coax  the  stiff,  hard-worked  fingers  into  grasping  the 
pen ;  in  short,  the  undertaking  was  so  great  that  many 
never  wrote  at  all. 

What  a  mass  of  interesting  history  and  other  in- 
formation would  not,  after  all,  the  few  early  letters  that 
were  sent  home,  contain  !  Those  written  during  the  great 
Civil  War,  in  which  the  Norwegians  took  an  active  and 
honorable  part,  would,  no  doubt,  make  intensely  interest- 
ing reading,  could  any  be  found.  It  would,  perhaps,  be 


WALKING    TRIPS    IN    NORWAY 


269 


considered  somewhat  one-sided  reading,  however,  for  I 

have  never  heard  of  any   Confederate  Norwegians,  all 

Norsmen,  as  far  as  I  know,  having  fought  for  the  Union. 

***** 

With  the  exception  of  walking  trips  in  and  about 
Bergen,  Christiania  and  Voss,  in  all  of  which  places  I 
remained  for  lengthy  visits,  this  ends  the  record  of  my 
pedestrian  feats  in  the  Northland. 

I  made,  besides,  two  delightful  trips  by  rail,  to 
Kongsvinger  near  the  Swedish  frontier,  and  to  Sande- 
fjord  in  the  southeast  part  of  Norway,  to  visit  friends, 
scouring  the  surrounding  country  on  foot  at  the  same 
time.  I  visited  also  the  agricultural  college  at  Aas.  From 
these  trips  I  obtained  a  fairly  accurate  idea  of  the  activ- 
ities in  this  by  far  the  best  agricultural  part  of  Norway ; 
but  adequately,  to  describe  this  section,  as  well  as  the 
cities  named  would  require  a  separate  chapter. 


A    000  040  681     s 


